tmmmsmmmmimtm 


mmmmm9miiim*mm*i<! 


^' 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2007  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


^ 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/fortunateislandoOOclariala 


An  old  Man's  Blessing.    Page  126. 


THE 


FORTUNATE    ISLAND 


AND    OTHER    STORIES 


By  max  ADELER 

AUTHOR   OF   "  OUT  OF  THE   HURLY   BURLY  "   "  ELBOW  ROOM  ' 
"  RANDOM   SHOTS  "   ETC. 


BOSTON 
LEE    AND    SHEPARD    PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK   CHARLES  T.  DILLINGHAM 
1882 


Copyright,  i88i, 
By  Chas.  Heber  Clark. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


PREFACE. 


The  custom  which  has  ordained  that  a  book 
shall  have  a  preface  is  useful  enough  to  writers 
who  have  to  say  to  their  readers  something  which 
could  not  properly  be  said  in  the  body  of  the  text ; 
but  it  imposes  a  burden  upon  those  who  have  no 
such  communication  to  make.  The  author  of  the 
present  volume  considers  that  he  may  fairly  per- 
form the  task  by  remarking  that  if  the  tales  herein 
contained  are  not  so  amusing  as  others  he  has 
written,  they  will  perhaps  be  found  to  be  quite  as 
entertaining,  and  possibly,  in  some  particulars, 
more  instructive.  If  they  shall  be  received  by  the 
public  with  the  favor  that  was  found  by  the  preced- 
ing volumes,  the  author  will  have  reason  to  con- 
gratulate himself  that  they  have  achieved  success 
of  a  somewhat  remarkable  character. 

Max  Adeler. 


2200606 


CONTENTS. 


VAGB 

The  Fortunate  Island 9 

The  City  of  Burlesque 107 

An  Old  Fogy 221 

Major  Dunwoody's  Leg 252 

Jinnie 311 


5 


THE   FORTUNATE   ISLAND 


THE  FORTUNATE  ISLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    ISLAND. 

HEN  the  good  ship  "Morning  Star," 
bound  to  Liverpool  from  New  York, 
foundered  at  sea,  the  officers,  the  crew, 
and  all  of  the  passengers  but  two,  escaped  in  the 
boats.  Professor  E.  L.  Baffin  and  his  daughter, 
Matilda  Baffin,  preferred  to  intrust  themselves  to 
a  patent  india-rubber  life-raft,  which  the  Professor 
was  carrying  with  him  to  Europe,  with  the  hope 
that  he  should  sell  certain  patent  rights  in  the  con- 
trivance. 

There  was  time  enough,  before  the  ship  sank,  to 
inflate  the  raft  and  to  place  upon  it  all  of  the 
trunks  and  bundles  belonging  to  the  Professor  and 
Matilda.  These  were  lashed  firmly  to  the  rubber 
cylinders,  and  thus  Professor  Baffin  was  encour- 
aged to  believe  that  he  might  save  from  destruc- 

9 


lO  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

tion  all  of  the  scientific  implements  and  apparatus 
which  he  had  brought  with  him  from  the  VVingo- 
hocking  University  to  illustrate  the  course  of  lec- 
tures which  he  had  engaged  to  give  in  England 
and  Scotland. 

Having  made  the  luggage  fast,  the  Professor 
handed  Matilda  down  from  the  ship's  side,  and 
when  he  had  tied  her  to  one  of  the  trunks  and 
secured  himself  to  another,  he  cut  the  raft  adrift, 
and,  with  the  occupants  of  the  boats,  sorrowfully 
watched  the  brave  old  "  Morning  Star "  settle 
down  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  water  ;  until  at 
last,  with  a  final  plunge,  she  dipped  beneath  the 
surface  and  disappeared. 

The  prospect  was  a  cheerless  one  for  all  of  the 
party.  The  sea  was  not  dangerously  rough  ;  but 
the  captain  estimated  that  the  nearest  land  was  at 
least  eight  hundred  miles  distant  ;  and,  although 
there  were  in  the  boats  and  upon  the  raft  pro- 
visions and  water  enough  for  several  days,  the 
chance  was  small  that  a  port  could  be  made  be- 
fore the  supplies  should  be  exhausted.  There  was, 
moreover,  almost  a  certainty  that  the  boats  would  be 
swamped  if  they  should  encounter  a  severe  storm. 

The  Professor,  for  his  part,  felt  confident  that 
the  raft  would  outlive  any  storm ;  but  his  ship- 
mates regarded  his  confidence  in  it  as  an  indication 
of  partial  insanity. 

The  captain  rested  his  expectations  of  getting 


THE    ISLAND.  II 

ashore  chiefly  upon  the  fact  that  they  were  in  the 
line  of  greatest  travel  across  the  Atlantic,  so  that 
they  might  reasonably  look  to  meet,  within  a  day 
or  two,  with  a  vessel  of  some  kind  which  would 
rescue  them. 

As  the  night  came  on,  it  was  agreed  that  the 
boats  and  the  raft  should  keep  together,  and  the 
captain  had  provided  a  lantern,  which  was  swung, 
lighted,  aloft  upon  an  oar,  so  that  the  position  of 
his  boat  could  be  determined.  The  Professor,  with 
his  raft  under  sail,  steered  along  in  the  wake  of  the 
boats  for  several  hours,  Matilda,  meanwhile,  sleep- 
ing calmly,  after  the  exciting  and  exhausting  labors 
of  the  day,  upon  a  couple  of  trunks. 

As  the  night  wore  on,  a  brisk  wind  sprang  up, 
and  shortly  afterward  the  light  upon  the  captain's 
boat  for  some  reason  disappeared.  The  Professor 
was  somewhat  perplexed  when  he  missed  it,  but  he 
concluded  that  the  safest  plan  would  be  to  steer 
about  upon  the  course  he  had  hitherto  held,  and 
then  to  communicate  with  the  boats  if  they  should 
be  within  sight  in  the  morning. 

The  wind  increased  in  force  about  midnight,  and 
the  raft  rolled  and  pitched  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  Professor's  faith  in  it  really  lost  some  of  its 
force.  Several  times  huge  waves  swept  over  it, 
drenching  the  Professor  and  his  daughter,  and  fill- 
ing them  with  grave  apprehensions  of  the  result  if 
the  storm  should  become  more  violent. 


12  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

Even  amid  the  peril,  however,  Professor  Baffin 
could  not  but  admire  the  heroic  courage  and  com- 
posure of  Matilda,  who  sat  upon  her  trunk,  wet 
and  shivering  with  cold,  without  showing  a  sign  of 
fear,  but  trying  to  encourage  her  father  with  words 
of  hope  and  cheer. 

When  the  dawn  came,  dim  and  gray,  the  gale 
abated  its  force,  and  although  the  sea  continued 
rough,  the  raft  rode  the  waves  more  buoyantly  and 
easily.  Producing  some  matches  from  his  water- 
proof box,  the  Professor  lighted  the  kerosene-lamp 
in  the  tiny  stove  which  was  in  one  of  the  boxes ; 
and  then  Matilda,  with  water  from  the  barrel,  be- 
gan to  try  to  make  some  coffee.  The  attempt 
seemed  to  promise  to  be  successful,  and  while  the 
process  was  going  on,  the  Professor  looked  about 
for  the  boats.  They  could  not  be  seen.  The  Pro- 
fessor took  out  his  glass  and  swept  the  horizon. 
In  vain  ;  the  boats  had  disappeared  completely  ; 
but  the  Professor  saw  something  else  that  attracted 
his  attention,  and  made  his  heart  for  a  moment 
stop  beating. 

Right  ahead,  not  distinctly  outlined,  but  visible  in 
a  misty  sort  of  way,  he  thought  he  discerned 
land! 

At  first  he  could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  his 
sight.  The  captain,  an  expert  navigator,  had  as- 
sured him  that  they  were  eight  hundred  miles  from 
any  shore.     But  this  certainly  looked  to  the  Pro- 


THE    ISLAND.  1 3 

fessor  very  much  like  land.  He  examined  it  through 
his  glass.  Even  then  the  view  was  not  clear  enough 
to  remove  all  doubts,  but  it  strengthened  his  con- 
viction ;  and  when  Matilda  looked  she  said  she 
knew  it  was  land.  She  could  trace  the  outline  of  a 
range  of  hills. 

"  Tilly,"  said  the  Professor,  "  we  are  saved  !  It  is 
the  land,  and  the  raft  is  drifting  us  directly  towards 
it.  We  cannot  be  sufficiently  thankful,  my  child, 
for  this  great  mercy  !  Who  would  have  expected 
it  ?  Taken  altogether,  it  is  the  most  extraordinary 
circumstance  within  my  recollection." 

"  Captain  Duffer  must  have  made  a  miscalcula- 
tion," said  Tilly.  "  The  ship  must  have  been  off 
of  her  course  when  she  sprang  a  leak." 

"  It  is  incomprehensible  how  so  old  a  sailor  could 
have  made  such  a  blunder,"  replied  the  Professor. 
"  But  there  the  land  is  ;  I  can  see  it  now  distinctly. 
It  looks  to  me  like  a  very  large  island." 

"  Are  you  going  ashore  at  once,  pa  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  dear  ;  that  is,  if  we  can  make  a  land- 
ing through  the  breakers." 

"  Suppose  there  are  cannibals  on  it,  pa }  It  would 
be  horrid  to  have  them  eat  us  ! " 

"  They  would  have  to  fatten  us  first,  darling  ; 
and  that  would  give  us  an  opportunity  to  study 
their  habits.     It  would  be  extremely  interesting  ! '' 

"  But  the  study  would  be  of  no  use  if  they  should 
eat  us  ! " 


14  THE   FORTUNATE    ISLAND, 

"  All  knowledge  is  useful,  Tilly ;  I  could  write 
out  the  results  of  our  observations,  and  probably 
set  them  adrift  in  a  bottle  !  " 

"  It  is  such  a  dreadful  death  !  " 

"  Try  to  look  at  it  philosophically !  There  is 
really  nothing  more  unpleasant  about  the  idea  of 
being  digested  than  there  is  about  the  thought  of 
being  buried." 

"  O,  pa  !  " 

"  No,  my  child  !  It  is  merely  a  sentiment.  If  I 
shall  be  eaten,  and  we  have  volition  after  death,  I 
am  determined  to  know  how  I  agreed  with  the  man 
who  had  me  for  dinner  !  Tilly,  I  have  a  notion 
that  you  would  eat  tender  !  " 

"  Pa,  you  are  simply  awful ! " 

"To  me,  indeed,  there  is  something  inspiring  in 
the  thought  that  my  physical  substance,  when  I 
have  done  with  it,  should  nourish  the  vitality  of 
another  being.  I  don't  like  to  think  that  I  may  be 
wasted." 

"  You  seem  as  if  you  rather  hoped  we  should  find 
savage  cannibals  upon  the  island  !  " 

"  No,  Tilly  ;  I  hope  we  shall  not.  I  believe  we 
shall  not.  Man-eaters  are  rarely  found  in  this  lati- 
tude. My  impression  is  that  the  island  is  not  in- 
habited at  all.  Probably  it  is  of  recent  volcanic 
origin.  If  so,  we  may  have  a  chance  to  examine 
a  newly-formed  crater.  I  have  longed  to  do  so  for 
years." 


THE    ISLAND.  1 5 

"  We  might  as  well  be  eaten  as  to  be  blown  up 
and  burned  up  by  a  volcano,"  said  Matilda. 

"  It  would  be  a  grand  thing,  though,  to  be  per- 
mitted to  observe,  without  interruption,  the  opera- 
tion of  one  of  the  mightiest  forces  of  nature  !  I  could 
make  a  magnificent  report  to  the  Philosophical  So- 
ciety about  it ;  that  is,  if  we  should  ever  get  home 
again." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Matilda,  "  I  hope  it  contains 
neither  cannibals  nor  volcanoes  ;  I  hope  it  is  sim- 
ply a  charming  island  without  a  man  or  a  beast 
upon  it." 

"  Something  like  Robinson  Crusoe's,  for  example  ! 
I  have  often  thought  I  should  like  to  undergo  his 
experiences.  It  must  be,  to  an  inquiring  mind, 
exceedingly  instructive  to  observe  in  what  manner 
a  civilized  man,  thrown  absolutely  upon  his  own 
resources,  contrives  to  conduct  his  existence.  I 
could  probably  enrich  my  lecture  upon  Sociology 
if  we  should  be  compelled  to  remain  upon  the 
island  for  a  year  or  two." 

"  But  we  should  starve  to  death  in  that  time  !  " 

"  So  we  should  ;  unless,  indeed,  the  island  pro- 
duces fruits  of  some  kind  from  its  soil.  I  think  it 
does.  It  seems  to  be  covered  with  trees,  Tilly, 
doesn't  it  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Matilda,  looking  through  the  glass. 
'' It  is  a  mass  of  verdure.  It  is  perfectly  beautifu).  I 
believe  I  see  something  that  looks  like  a  building,  too." 


l6  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"Impossible!  you  see  a  peculiar  rock  formation, 
no  doubt  ;  I  shan't  be  surprised  if  there  is  enough 
in  the  geological  formation  of  the  island  to  engage 
my  attention  so  long  as  we  remain." 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do,  meantime  ? " 

"You."*  Oh,  you  can  label  my  specimens  and 
keep  the  journal ;  and  maybe  you  might  hunt 
around  for  fossils  a  little  yourself." 

The  raft  rapidly  moved  toward  the  shore,  and 
the  eyes  of  both  of  the  voyagers  were  turned  to- 
ward it  inquiringly  and  eagerly.  Who  could  tell 
how  long  the  island  might  be  their  home,  and  what 
strange  adventures  might  befall  them  there  ? 

"The  wind  is  blowing  right  on  shore,  Tilly," 
said  the  Professor.  "  I  will  steer  straight  ahead, 
and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  we  could  shoot  the 
breakers  safely.  Isn't  that  a  sand-beach  right  in 
front  there  ? "  inquired  the  Professor,  elevating  his 
nose  a  little,  to  get  his  spectacles  in  focus.  "  It 
looks  like  one." 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  replied  Matilda,  looking  through  her 
glass. 

"  First-rate !  Couldn't  have  been  better.  There, 
we  will  drive  right  in.  Tilly,  hoist  my  umbrella,  so 
as  to  give  her  more  sail  !  " 

The  raft  fairly  danced  across  the  waves  under 
the  increased  pressure,  and  in  a  moment  or  two  it 
was  rolling  in  the  swell  just  outside  of  the  line  of 
white  breakers.     Before  the  Professor  had  time  to 


THE    ISLAND.  1/ 

think  what  he  should  do  to  avoid  the  shock,  a  huge 
wave  uplifted  the  raft  and  ran  it  high  upon  the 
beach  with  such  violence  as  to  compel  the  Profes- 
sor to  turn  a  somersault  over  a  trunk.  He  recov- 
ered himself  at  once,  and  replacing  his  spectacles 
he  proceeded,  with  the  assistance  of  Matilda,  to 
pull  the  raft  up  beyond  the  reach  of  the  waves. 

Then,  wet  and  draggled,  with  sand  on  his  coat, 
and  his  hat  knocked  completely  out  of  shape,  he 
stood  rubbing  his  chin  with  his  hand,  and  thought- 
fully observing  the  breakers. 

"  Extraordinary  force,  Tilly,  that  of  the  ocean 
surf,  —  clear  waste,  too,  apparently.  If  we  stay  here 
long  enough,  I  must  try  to  find  out  the  secret  of  its 
motion." 

"  Hadn't  we  better  put  on  some  dry  clothing 
first?"  suggested  Miss  Baffin,  "and  examine  the 
surf  afterwards  }  For  my  part  I  have  had  enough 
of  it." 

"  Certainly  !  Have  you  the  keys  of  the  trunks  ^ 
Everything  soaking  wet,  most  likely." 

When  the  trunks  were  unfastened,  the  Professor 
was  delighted  fo  find  that  the  contents  were  per- 
fectly dry.  Selecting  some  clothing  for  himself,  he 
went  behind  a  huge  rock  and  proceeded  to  dress. 
Matilda,  after  looking  carefully  about,  retreated  to 
a  group  of  trees,  and  beneath  their  shelter  made 
her  toilette. 

"  Isn't  this  a  magnificent  place  .-•  "  said  the  Pro- 


l8  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND, 

fessor,  when  Matilda,  nicely  dressed,  came  out  to 
where  he  was  standing  by  the  raft. 

"  Perfectly  lovely." 

"  Noble  trees,  rich  grass,  millions  of  wild  flowers, 
birds  twittering  above  us,  a  matchless  sky,  a  brac- 
ing air,  and  —  why,  halloa !  there's  a  stream  of 
running  water  !  We  must  have  a  drink  of  that, 
the  very  first  thing.  Delicious,  isn't  it?"  asked 
the  Professor,  when  Miss  Baffin,  after  drinking, 
returned  the  cup  to  him. 

"It  is  nectar." 

"I  tell  you  what,  Tilly,  I  am  not  sure  that  it 
wouldn't  be  a  good  thing  to  be  compelled  to  live 
here  for  two  or  three  years.  The  vegetation  shows 
that  we  are  in  a  temperate  latitude,  and  I  know  I  can 
find  or  raise  enough  to  eat  in  such  a  place  as  this." 

"  Why,  pa,  look  there  ! " 

"  Where  > " 

"  Over  there.     Don't  you  see  that  castle .-' " 

"  Castle  ?  No !  What !  Why,  yes,  it  is  !  Bless 
my  soul,  Tilly,  the  place  is  inhabited  ! " 

"  Who  would  have  thought  of  finding  a  building 
like  that  on  an  island  in  mid-ocean  .'* " 

"It  is  the  most  extraordinary  circumstance, 
taking  it  altogether,  that  ever  came  under  my  ob- 
servation," said  the  Professor,  looking  towards  the 
distant  edifice.  "  So  far  as  I  can  make  out,  it  is  a 
castle  of  an  early  period." 

"  Mediaeval  ? " 


THE    ISLAND.  19 

"Well,  not  later  than  the  seventh  or  eighth  cen- 
tury, at  the  farthest.  Tilly,  I  feel  as  if  something 
remarkable  was  going  to  happen." 

"  Pa,  you  frighten  me  !  " 

"  No,  I  mean  something  that  will  be  extraordina- 
rily interesting.  I  know  it.  The  voice  of  instinct 
tells  me  so.     Have  you  your  journal  with  you  .-* " 

"It  is  in  the  trunk." 

"  Get  it  and  your  lead-pencils.  We  will  drag  the 
baggage  further  up  from  the  water,  and  then  we 
will  push  towards  the  castle.  I  am  going  to  know 
the  date  of  that  structure  before  I  sleep  to-night." 

"  There  can  hardly  be  any  danger,  I  suppose  .'' " 
suggested  Miss  Baffin,  rather  timidly. 

"  Oh,  no,  of  course  not ;  I  have  my  revolver  with 
me.  Let  me  see ;  where  is  it  ?  Ah,  here.  And 
the  cartridges  are  waterproof.  I  think  I  will  put  a 
few  things  in  a  valise,  also.  We  might  find  the 
castle  empty,  and  have  to  depend  upon  ourselves 
for  supper." 

The  Professor  then  let  the  air  out  of  the  raft, 
and  folded  the  flattened  cylinders  together. 

When  the  valise  was  ready,  the  Professor 
grasped  it,  shouldered  his  umbrella,  and  said, 
"  Now,  come,  darling,  and  we  will  find  out  what  all 
this  means." 

The  pair  started  along  a  broad  path  which  ran 
by  the  side  of  the  stream,  following  the  course  of 
the  brook,  and  winding  in  and  out  among  trees  of 


20  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

huge  girth  and  gigantic  height.  Birds  of  familiar 
species  flitted  from  branch  to  branch  before  them, 
as  if  to  lead  them  on  their  way ;  now  and  then  a 
brown  rabbit,  after  eyeing  them  for  a  moment  with 
quivering  nostrils,  beat  a  quick  tattoo  upon  the 
ground  with  his  hind  legs,  then  threw  up  his  tail 
and  whisked  into  the  shrubbery.  Gra}^  squirrels 
scrambled  around  the  trunks  of  the  trees  to  look 
at  them,  and  now  and  then  a  screaming,  blue- 
crested  kingfisher  ceased  his  complaining  while  he 
plunged  into  one  of  the  pools  of  the  rivulet,  and 
emerged  with  a  trout  in  his  talons. 

It  was  an  enchanting  scene  ;  and  Miss  Baffin 
enjoyed  it  thoroughly  as  she  stepped  blithely  by 
the  side  of  her  father,  who  seemed  to  find  especial 
pleasure  in  discovering  that  the  herbage,  the  trees, 
the  rocks,  and  all  the  other  natural  objects,  were 
precisely  like  those  with  which  he  had  been  fa- 
mihar  at  home. 

After  following  the  path  for  some  time,  the  pair 
came  to  a  place  where  the  brook  widened  into  a 
great  pool,  through  which  the  water  went  slug- 
gishly, bearing  upon  its  surface  bubbles  and  froth, 
which  told  how  it  had  been  tossed  and  broken  by 
rapid  descents  over  the  rocks  in  some  narrow 
channel  above.  Here  the  Professor  stopped  to  ob- 
serve an  uncommonly  large  and  green  bullfrog, 
which  sat  upon  a  slimy  stone  a  few  yards  away, 
looking  solemnly  at  him. 


THE    ISLAND.  21 

During  the  pause,  they  were  startled  to  hear  a 
voice  saying  to  them,  — 

"  Good  morrow,  gentle  friends." 

Matilda  uttered  a  partly-suppressed  scream,  and 
even  the  Professor  jumped  backward  a  foot  or  two, 
in  astonishment. 

Looking  toward  the  place  from  which  the  voice 
came,  they  saw  an  old  man  with  gray  hair  and 
beard  lifting  a  large  stone  pitcher,  which  he  had 
been  filling  from  the  pool.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
long  and  rather  loose  robe,  which  reached  from 
his  shoulders  to  his  feet,  and  which  was  gathered 
about  his  waist  with  a  knotted  cord.  This  was 
his  entire  costume,  for  his  feet  were  bare,  and  he 
wore  no  hat  to  hide  the  rich  masses  of  hair  which 
fell  to  his  shoulders.  As  he  offered  his  salutation, 
he  raised  his  pitcher  until  he  stood  upright,  and 
then  he  looked  at  the  Professor  and  Miss  Baffin 
with  a  pleasant  smile,  in  which  there  were  traces 
of  curiosity. 

"  Good  afternoon,"  returned  the  Professor,  after 
a  moment's  hesitation  ;  "how  are  you  .-'" 

"  Are  you  not  strangers  in  this  land .-' "  asked  the 
old  man. 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  the  Professor,  briskly,  with  a 
manifest  purpose  to  be  sociable  ;  "  we  have  just 
•  come  ashore  down  here  on  the  beach.  Ship- 
wrecked, in  fact.  This  is  my  daughter.  Let  me 
introduce  you.     My  child,  allow  me  to  make  you 


22  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

acquainted  with  —  with  —  beg  pardon,  but  I  think 
you  did  not  mention  your  name." 

"  I  am  known  as  Father  Anselm." 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  Matilda,  this  is  Father  Anselm. 
A  clergyman,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  I  am  a  hermit ;  my  cell  is  close  at  hand.  You 
will  be  welcome  there  if  you  will  visit  it." 

"A  hermit!  Living  in  a  cell!  Well,  this  is 
surprising !  We  shall  be  only  too  happy  to  visit 
you,  if  you  will  permit  us.  Delightful,  isn't  it, 
dear?  We  will  obtain  some  valuable  information 
from  the  old  gentleman," 

The  Hermit,  with  the  pitcher  poised  upon  his 
shoulder,  led  the  way,  and  he  was  closely  followed 
by  the  Professor  and  by  Matilda,  who  regarded 
the  proceeding  rather  with  nervous  apprehension. 
The  Hermit's  cell  was  a  huge  cave,  excavated  from 
the  side  of  a  hill.  The  floor  was  covered  with 
sprigs  of  fragrant  evergreens.  A  small  table  stood 
upon  one  side  of  the  apartment  ;  beside  it  was  a 
rough  bench,  which  was  the  only  seat  in  the  room. 
A  crucifix,  a  candle,  a  skull,  an  hour-glass,  and  a 
few  simple  utensils  were  the  only  other  articles  to 
be  seen. 

The  Hermit  brought  forward  the  bench  for  his 
visitors  to  sit  upon,  and  then,  procuring  a  cup,  he 
offered  each  a  drink  of  water. 

The  Professor,  hugging  one  knee  with  interlocked 
fingers,  seemed  anxious  to  open  a  conversation. 


THE    ISLAND.  23 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  but  do  I  understand  that  you 
are  a  clergyman  ;  that  is  to  say,  some  sort  of  a 
teacher  of  religion  ?  " 

"  I  belong  to  a  religious  order.     I  am  a  recluse," 

"  Roman  Catholic,  I  presume  ? "  said  the  Pro- 
fessor, glancing  at  the  crucifix. 

"  Your  meaning  is  not  wholly  clear  to  me,"  re- 
plied the  Hermit. 

"  What  are  your  views  ?  Do  you  lean  to  Calvin- 
ism, or  do  you  think  the  Arminians,  upon  the 
whole,  have  the  best  of  the  argument  ?  " 

"  The  gentleman  does  not  understand  you,  pa," 
said  Miss  Baffin. 

"  Never  mind,  then  ;  we  will  not  press  it.  But 
I  should  like  very  much  if  you  would  tell  us  some- 
thing about  this  place ;  this  country  around  here," 
said  the  Professor,  waving  his  hand  towards  the 
door. 

"  Let  me  ask  first  of  the  misadventure  which 
cast  you  unwillingly  upon  our  shores  ? "  said  the 
Hermit. 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  sailed  from  New  York  on  the 
twenty-third  of  last  month,  with  my  daughter  here, 
to  fulfil  an  engagement  to  deliver  a  course  of  lec- 
tures in  England." 

"  In  England  ! "  exclaimed  the  Hermit,  with  an 
appearance  of  eager  interest. 

"  Yes,  in  England.  I  am  a  professor,  you  know, 
in  an  American  university.     When  we  were  about 


24  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

half  way  across,  the  ship  sprang  a  leak,  from  some 
cause  now  unknown.  My  daughter  and  I  got  off 
with  our  baggage  upon  a  life-raft,  which  I  most 
fortunately  had  with  me.  The  rest  of  the  passen- 
gers and  the  crew  escaped  in  the  boats.  I  be- 
came separated  from  them,  and  drifted  here.  That 
is  the  whole  story." 

"I  comprehend  only  a  part  of  what  you  say," 
replied  the  Hermit.  "But  it  is  enough  that  you 
have  suffered;  I  give  you  hearty  welcome." 

."  Thank  you.     And  now  tell  me  where  I  am." 

"You  spoke  of  England  a  moment  ago,"  said 
the  Hermit.  "  Let  me  begin  with  it.  Hundreds 
of  years  ago,  in  the  time  of  King  Arthur,  of  noble 
fame,  it  happened,  by  some  means  even  yet  not  re- 
vealed to  us,  that  a  vast  portion  of  that  island 
separated  from  the  rest,  and  drifted  far  out  upon 
the  ocean.  It  carried  with  it  hundreds  of  people 
— noble,  and  gentle,  and  humble.  This  is  that 
country." 

"lr\-deed!"  exclaimed  the  Professor.  "This.? 
This  island  that  we  are  on  .?     Amazing  !  " 

"  It  is  true,"  responded  the  Hermit. 

"  Why,  Tilly,  do  you  hear  that .-'  This  is  the  lost 
Atlantis  !  We  have  been  driven  ashore  on  the  far- 
famed  Fortunate  Island  !  Wonderful,  isn't  it  .'' 
Taking  every  thing  into  consideration,  I  must  say 
this  certainly  is  the  most  extraordinary  circum- 
stance I  ever  encountered  !  " 


THE    ISLAND.  2^ 

"Nobody  among  us  has  ever  heard  anything 
from  England  or  of  it,  excepting  through  tradition. 
No  ship  comes  to  our  shores,  and  those  of  us  who 
have  builded  boats  and  gone  away  in  search  of 
adventure  have  never  come  back.  Sometimes  I 
think  the  island  has  not  ended  its  wanderings,  but 
is  still  floating  about  ;  but  we  cannot  tell." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  Professor,  "  you  can 
take  your  latitude  and  longitude  at  any  time,  can't 
you  .? " 

"Take  what?" 

"  Your  latitude  and  longitude !  Find  out  exactly 
in  what  part  of  the  world  you  are  .-'  " 

"  I  never  heard  that  such  a  thing  was  done. 
None  of  our  people  have  that  kind  of  learning." 

"  Well,  but  you  have  schools  and  colleges,  and 
you  acquire  knowledge,  don't  you  .'* " 

"  We  have  a  few  schools  ;  but  only  the  low-born 
children  attend  them,  and  they  are  taught  only 
what  their  fathers  learned.  We  do  not  try  to  know 
more.  We  reverence  the  past.  It  is  a  matter  of 
pride  among  us  to  preserve  the  habits,  the  man- 
ners, the  ideas,  the  social  state  which  our  fore- 
fathers had  when  they  were  sundered  from  their 
nation." 

"  You  live  here  pretty  much  as  King  Arthur  and 
his  subjects  lived  .-•  " 

"  Yes.  We  have  our  chivalry ;  our  knight  er- 
rants  ;  our  tournaments  ;  our  castles : —  everything 
just  as  it  was  in  the  old  time." 


26  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Professor  to  Miss  Baffin, 
"  the  wildest  imagination  could  have  conceived 
nothing  like  this.  We  shall  be  afforded  an  oppor- 
tunity to  study  the  middle  ages  on  the  spot." 

"  Sometimes,"  said  the  Hermit,  gravely,  "  I  have 
secret  doubts  whether  our  way  is  the  best, 
whether  in  England  and  the  rest  of  the  world 
men  may  not  have  learned  while  we  have  remained 
ignorant ;  but  I  cannot  tell.  And  no  one  would  be 
willing  to  change  if  we  could  know  the  truth." 

"  My  friend,"  said  the  Professor,  with  a  look  of 
compassion,  "  the  world  has  gone  far,  far  ahead  of 
King  Arthur's  time  !  It  has  almost  forgotten  that 
there  ever  was  such  a  time.  You  would  hardly  be- 
lieve me,  at  any  rate  you  would  not  understand  me, 
if  I  should  tell  you  of  the  present  state  of  things  in 
the  world.  But  if  I  stay  here  I  will  try  to  en- 
lighten you  gradually.  I  feel  as  I  had  been  sent 
here  as  a  missionary  for  that  very  purpose." 

"  Do  you  come  from  England  .-' " 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  was  going  thither.  I  came  from 
the  United  States.  You  never  heard  of  them,  of 
course.  They  are  a  land  right  across  the  ocean 
from  England,  about  three  thousand  miles." 

"  Discovered  by  a  man  named  Columbus,"  said 
Miss  Baffin. 

"  Your  dress  is  an  odd  one,"  continued  the  Her- 
mit.    "  Are  you  a  fighting  man  .-' " 

**  A  fighting  man  !  Oh,  no,  of  course  not.  I'm 
a  Professor." 


THE    ISLAND.  2/ 

*'Then  this  is  not  a  weapon  that  you  carry." 

"  Bless  my  soul,  my  dear  sir  !  Why,  this  is  an 
umbrella !  Tilly,  we  have  to  deal  with  a  very 
primitive  condition  of  things  here.  It  is  both  en- 
tertaining and  instructive." 

"  What  is  it  for  > " 

"  I  will  show  you.  Suppose  it  begins  to  rain,  I 
untie  this  string  and  open  the  umbrella,  so  /  Now 
don't  be  alarmed !  It  is  perfectly  harmless,  I 
assure  you ! " 

The  holy  man  had  retreated  suddenly  into  the 
furthest  recess  of  the  cell. 

"  While  it  rains  I  hold  it  in  this  manner.  When 
it  clears,  I  shut  it  up,  t/iuSf  and  put  it  under  my 
arm." 

"  Wonderful !  wonderful ! "  exclaimed  the  Hermit. 
"  I  thought  it  was  an  implement  of  war.  The 
world  beyond  us  evidently  has  surpassed  us." 

"This  is  nothing  to  the  things  I  will  show  you," 
said  the  Professor.  "  I  see  you  have  an  hour-glass 
here.  Is  this  the  only  way  you  have  of  recording 
time  ? " 

"  We  have  the  sun." 

"  No  clocks  or  watches  .'' " 

"  I  do  not  know  what  they  are." 

"  Tilly,  show  him  your  watch.  This  is  the  ma- 
chine with  which  we  tell  time." 

"Alive,  is  it.''"  asked  the  Hermit. 

The  Professor  explained  the  mechanism  to  him 
in  detail. 


28  THE   FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"You  are  indeed  a  learned  man,"  said  the  re- 
cluse. "But  I  have  forgotten  a  part  of  my  duty. 
Will  you  not  take  some  food  .'' " 

"  Well,"  said  the  Professor,  "  if  you  have  any- 
thing about  in  the  form  of  a  lunch,  I  think  I  could 
dispose  of  it." 

''I  am  awfully  hungry,"  said  Miss  Baffin. 

The  Hermit  produced  a  piece  of  meat,  and  hang- 
ing it  upon  a  turnspit  he  gathered  a  few  sticks  and 
placed  them  beneath  it.  The  Professor  watched 
him  closely ;  and  when  the  holy  man  took  in  his 
hands  a  flint  and  steel  with  which  to  ignite  the 
wood,  the  Professor  exclaimed,  — 

"  One  moment !  Let  me  start  that  fire  for 
you } " 

Taking  from  his  pocket  an  old  newspaper,  he 
put  it  beneath  the  sticks  ;  then  from  his  match-box 
he  took  a  match,  and  striking  it  there  was  a  blaze 
in  a  moment. 

The  Hermit  crossed  himself  and  muttered  a 
prayer  at  this  performance. 

"  No  cause  for  alarm,  I  assure  you,"  said  the 
Professor. 

"  You  must  be  a  wizard,"  said  the  Hermit. 

"  No ;  I  did  that  with  what  we  call  a  match  ;  like 
this  one.  There  is  stuff  on  the  end  which  catches 
fire  when  you  rub  it,"  and  the  Professor  again 
ignited  a  match. 

"  I  never  could  have  dreamed  that  such  a  thing 


THE    ISLAND,  29 

could  be,"  exclaimed  the  recluse.  "You  will  be 
regarded  by  our  people  as  the  most  marvellous 
magician  that  ever  lived." 

The  Professor  laughed, 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  I  will  let  them  know  it  is  not 
magic.  We  must  clear  all  that  nonsense  away. 
Tilly,  I  feel  that  duty  points  me  clearly  to  the  task 
of  delivering  a  course  of  lectures  upon  this  island." 

During  the  repast,  the  Hermit,  looking  timidly 
at  Professor  Baffin,  said,  — 

"  Would  it  seem  discourteous  if  I  should  ask  you 
another  question  }" 

"  Certainly  not.  I  shall  be  glad  to  give  you  any 
information  you  may  want." 

"What,  then,"  inquired  the  Hermit,  "is  the 
reason  why  you  protect  your  eyes  with  glass  win- 
dows > " 

"These,"  said  the  Professor,  removing  his  spec- 
tacles, "are  intended  to  improve  the  sight.  I 
cannot  see  well  without  them.  With  them  I  have 
perfect  vision.  Tilly,  make  a  memorandum  in  the 
journal  that  my  first  lecture  shall  be  upon  Optics." 

"  Pa,  I  wish  we  could  learn  something  about  the 
castle  we  saw,"  observed  Miss  Baffin. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  by  the  way,  Father  Anselm,"  said  the 
Professor,  "we  observed  an  old-fashioned  castle 
over  yonder,  as  we  came  here.  Can  you  tell  me 
anything  about  it .-' " 

"  The  castle,"  replied  the  Hermit,  "  is  the  home 


30  THE    FORTUx\ATE    ISLAND. 

and  the  stronghold  of  Sir  Bors,  Baron  of  Lonazep. 
He  is  a  great  and  powerful  noble,  much  feared  in 
this  country." 

"  Any  family  ? "  inquired  the  Professor. 

"  He  has  a  gallant  son,  Sir  Dinadan,  as  brave  a 
knight  as  ever  levelled  lance,  and  a  beautiful 
daughter,  Ysolt.  Both  are  unmarried  ;  but  the  fair 
Ysolt  fondly  loves  Sir  Bleoberis,  to  whom,  how- 
ever, the  Baron  will  not  suffer  her  to  be  wedded, 
because  Sir  Bleoberis,  though  bold  and  skilful,  has 
little  wealth." 

"  Human  nature,  you  observe,  my  child,  is  the 
same  everywhere.  We  have  heard  of  something 
like  this  at  home,"  remarked  the  Professor  to  his 
daughter. 

"  Ysolt  is  loved  also  by  another  knight.  Sir  Dag- 
onet.  He  has  great  riches,  and  is  very  powerful ; 
but  he  is  a  bad  and  dangerous  man,  and  the  Baron 
will  not  consent  to  give  him  Ysolt  to  wife.  These 
matters  cause  much  strife  and  much  unhappiness." 

"  It's  the  same  way  with  us,"  observed  the  Pro- 
fessor ;  "  I  have  known  lots  of  such  cases." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  stay  here  long  enough  to  see 
how  it  all  turns  out,"  said  Miss  Baffin. 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  Professor.  "  You  hated 
the  island  when  you  thought  it  might  promote  the 
interests  of  science.  But  some  lovers'  nonsense 
would  keep  you  here  willingly  for  life.  Just  like  a 
woman." 


THE   ISLAND.  31 

**  The  King,"  said  the  Hermit,  "  has  espoused 
the  cause  of  Sir  Bleoberis,  and  we  hope  he  may 
win  the  lady  for  the  knight  whom  she  loves." 

"  The  King,  eh  ?  Then  you  have  a  monarchical 
government  ? " 

"  We  have  eleven  kings  upon  this  island." 

"  All  reigning  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  many  people  are  there  in  the  whole 
island  ? " 

"  No  one  knows,  exactly.  One  hundred  thou- 
sand, possibly." 

"  Not  ten  thousand  men  apiece  for  the  kings  ! 
Humph !  In  my  country  we  have  a  million  men 
in  one  town,  and  nobody  but  a  common  man  to 
rule  them." 

"  Incredible  ! " 

"And  what  is  the  name  of  your  particular  king, — 
the  one  who  is  lord  of  this  part  of  the  country  ?  " 

"  King  Brandegore ;  a  wise,  and  good,  and  val- 
iant monarch." 

"Tilly,"  said  the  Professor,  "you  might  as  well 
jot  that  down.  Eleven  kings  on  the  island,  and 
King  Brandegore  running  this  part  of  the  govern- 
ment.    I  must  get  acquainted  with  him." 

When  the  meal  was  finished  the  Professor  said 
to  the  recluse,  — 

"  Do  you  allow  smoking  ? " 

"  Smoking  ! " 


32  THE   FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"  Pray  excuse  me !  I  forgot.  If  you  will  permit 
me,  I  will  introduce  you  to  another  of  the  practices 
of  modern  civilization." 

Then  the  Professor  lighted  a  cigar,  and,  sitting 
on  the  bench  in  a  comfortable  position,  with  his 
back  against  the  wall  of  the  cave,  he  began  to  puff 
out  whiffs  of  smoke. 

The  Hermit,  with  a  look  of  alarm,  was  about  to 
ask  for  an  explanation  of  the  performance,  when 
loud  cries  were  heard  outside  of  the  cave  mingled 
with  frightened  exclamations  from  a  woman. 

The  occupants  of  the  cavern  started  to  their  feet, 
just  as  a  beautiful  girl,  dressed  in  a  quaint  but 
charming  costume,  ran  into  the  doorway  in  such 
haste  that  she  dashed  plump  up  against  the  Pro- 
fessor, who  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

For  a  moment  she  was  startled  at  seeing  two 
strangers  in  a  place  where  she  had  thought  to  en- 
counter none  but  the  Hermit ;  but  her  dread  of  her 
pursuer  overcame  her  diffidence,  and,  clinging  to 
the  Professor,  she  exclaimed,  — 

"  Oh,  save  me  !  save  me !  " 

"  Certainly  I  will,"  said  the  Professor,  soothingly, 
as  his  arm  tightened  its  clasp  about  her  waist, 
"  What's  the  matter  ?  Don't  be  afraid,  my  child. 
Who  is  pursuing  you  ?  " 

The  Professor  was  not  displeased  at  the  situation 
in  which  he  found  himself.  The  damsel  was  fair 
to  see,  and  the  head  which  rested,  in  what  seemed 


THE    ISLAND.  33 

to  him  sweet  confidence,  upon  his  shoulder,  was 
crowned  with  golden  hair  of  matchless  beauty. 
Even  amid  the  intense  excitement  of  the  moment 
the  reflection  flashed  through  the  Professor's  mind 
that  he  was  a  widower,  and  that  Matilda  had 
always  expressed  a  willingness  to  try  to  love  a 
stepmother, 

"  My  father !  The  Baron  !  He  threatens  to 
kill  me,"  sobbed  the  maiden,  and  then,  tearing  her- 
self away  from  the  Professor  in  a  manner  which 
struck  him  as  being,  to  say  the  least,  inconsiderate, 
she  flew  to  Father  Anselm  and  said,  "You,  holy 
father,  will  save  me." 

•  "  I  will  try,  my  daughter ;  I  will  try,  replied  the 
Hermit.  And  then,  turning  to  the  Professor  he 
said,  "  It  is  Ysolt." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  the  Professor,  "  the  Baron's  daugh- 
ter. May  I  ask  you,  miss,  what  the  old  gentleman 
is  so  excited  about  ?  It  is  not  one  of  the  customs 
here  for  indignant  parents  to  chase  their  children 
around  the  country,  is  it  ? " 

"I  had  gone  from  the  castle,"  said  the  damsel, 
partly  to  the  Hermit  and  partly  to  Professor  Baf- 
fin, "  to  meet  Sir  Bleoberis  at  the  trysting-place. 
My  father  was  watching  me,  and  as  I  neared  the 
spot  he  rushed  toward  me  with  a  drawn  sword, 
threatening  to  kill  me." 

"It  is  an  outrageous  shame!"  exclaimed  the 
Professor,  sympathetically. 


34  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"  I  eluded  him,"  continued  the  sobbing  girl,  "  and 
flew  towards  this  place.  When  he  saw  me  at  last 
he  gave  chase.  I  am  afraid  he  will  slay  me  when 
he  comes." 

"  I  think,  perhaps,  I  may  be  able  to  reason  with 
this  person  when  he  arrives,"  said  the  Professor, 
rubbing  his  chin  and  looking  at  the  hermit  over  the 
top  of  his  spectacles.  "  The  Baron  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  himself  to  go  on  in  this  manner  !  Tilly, 
wipe  the  poor  creature's  eyes  with  your  handker- 
chief.    There  now,  dear,  cheer  up." 

Just  then  the  Baron  rushed  into  the  cell,  with 
his  eyes  flaming,  and  his  breath  coming  short  and 
fast. 

He  was  a  large  man,  with  a  handsome  face,  thick 
covered  with  beard.  He  was  dressed  in  doublet, 
trunks  and  hose,  and  over  one  shoulder  a  mantle 
hung  gracefully.  His  sword  was  in  its  sheath,  and 
it  was  manifest  that  he  had  repented  of  his  mur- 
derous purpose. 

"  Where  is  that  faithless  girl  ? "  he  demanded  in 
a  voice  of  thunder. 

Ysolt  had  hidden  behind  Matilda  Baffin. 

"  Say,  priest,  where  have  you  secreted  her  .-' " 

"  One  moment ! "  said  the  Professor,  stepping 
forward.  "  May  I,  without  appearing  impertinent, 
offer  a  suggestion  .-• " 

"  Out,  varlet ! "  exclaimed  the  Baron,  pushing 
him  aside.     "  Tell  me,  Hermit,  where  is  Ysolt." 


THE    ISLAND.  35 

The  Professor  was  actually  pale  with  indigna- 
tion. Pushing  himself  in  front  of  the  Baron,  and 
braridishing  his  umbrella  in  a  determined  way  he 
said  : 

"  Old  man,  I  want  you  to  understand  that  you 
have  to  deal  with  a  free  and  independent  American 
citizen  !  What  do  you  mean  by  '  varlet .-' '  I  hurl 
the  opprobrious  word  back  into  your  teeth,  sir  !  I 
am  not  going  to  put  up  with  such  conduct,  I'd  like 
you  to  know  !  " 

The  Baron  for  the  first-  time  perceived  what 
manner  of  man  the  Professor  was,  and  he  paused 
for  a  moment  amid  his  rage  to  eye  the  stranger 
with  astonishment. 

"Why  do  you  want  to  hurt  the  young  woman  } 
Is  this  any  way  for  an  affectionate  father  to  behave 
to  his  own  offspring .-'  Allow  me  to  say,  sir,  that 
I'll  be  hanged  if  I  think  it  is  !  If  you  don't  want 
her  to  marry  Sir  What's-his-name,  don't  let  her; 
but  it  strikes  me  that  charging  around  the  country 
after  her,  and  threatening  to  kill  her,  is  an  evidence 
that  you  don't  understand  the  first  principles  of 
domestic  discipline !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Who  are  you  .-'  What 
are  you  doing  here  .-' "  demanded  the  Baron,  fiercely, 
recovering  his  self-possession. 

"  I  am  Professor  E.  L.  Baffin,  of  Wingohocking 
University  ;  and  I  mean  to  try  to  persuade  you  to 
treat  your  daughter  more  gently,"  said  the  Profes- 


36  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

sor,  cooling  as  he  remembered  that  the  Baron  had 
a  father's  authority. 

"  You  have  a  weapon.  I  will  fight  you,"  said  the 
Baron,  drawing  his  sword. 

The  Professor  put  his  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and 
opened  his  umbrella  suddenly  in  the  Baron's 
face. 

The  Baron  retreated  a  distance  of  twenty  feet 
and  looked  scared. 

"  Come,"  said  the  Professor,  closing  his  umbrella 
and  smiling,  *'  I  am  not  a  fighting  man.  We  will 
not  quarrel.     Let  us  talk  the  matter  over  calmly." 

But  the  Baron,  mortified  because  of  the  alarm 
that  he  had  manifested,  rushed  savagely  at  the 
Professor,  and  would  have  felled  him  to  the  earth 
had  not  Matilda  sprung  forward  and  placed  herself, 
shrieking,  between  the  Baron  and  her  father. 

At  this  precise  juncture,  also,  a  young  man 
entered  the  cell,  and,  seeing  the  Baron  apparently 
about  to  strike  a  woman,  seized  his  sword-arm  and 
held  it.  The  Baron  turned  sharply  about.  Recog- 
nizing the  youth  as  his  son,  he  simply  looked  at 
him  angrily,  and  then,  while  Miss  Baffin  clung  to 
the  Professor,  the  Baron  seized  Ysolt  by  the  arm 
and  led  her  weeping  away. 

The  Professor,  after  freeing  himself  from  Miss 
Baffin's  embrace,  extended  his  hand  to  the  youth, 
and  said, — 

"  I  have  not  the  honor  of  knowing  you,  sir,  but 


THE    ISLAND.  3/ 

you  have  behaved  handsomely.  Permit  me  to  in- 
quire your  name  ? " 

"  Sir  Dinadan  ;  the  son  of  the  Baron,"  said  the 
youth,  taking  hold  of  the  Professor's  hand,  as  if  he 
were  somewhat  uncertain  what  he  had  better  do 
with  it. 

"  No  last  name  ? "  asked  the  Professor. 

"  That  is  all.     And  you  are  .■'  —  " 

"  I  am  Everett  L.  Baffin,  a  Professor  in  the 
Wingohocking  University.  I  was  cast  ashore 
down  here  with  my  daughter.  Tilly,  let  me  intro- 
duce to  you  Sir  Dinadan." 

Sir  Dinadan  colored,  and  dropping  upon  his 
knee  he  seized  Miss  Baffin's  hand  and  kissed  it. 
Rising,  he  said  : 

"  What,  Sir  Baffin,  is  the  name  of  the  sweet 
lady  ? " 

"Matilda." 

"  How  lovely  !  "  exclaimed  Sir  Dinadan. 

"  It  is  abbreviated  sometimes  to  Tilly,  by  her 
friends." 

"  It  is  too  beautiful,"  said  the  youth,  gazing  at 
Miss  Baffin  with  unconcealed  admiration.  "  I 
trust.  Sir  Baffin,  I  may  be  able  to  serve  in  some 
manner  you  and  the  Lady  Tilly." 

"  Professor  Baffin,  my  dear  sir ;  not  Sir  Baffin. 
Permit  me  to  offer  you  my  card." 

Sir  Dinadan  took  the  card,  and  seemed  per- 
plexed as  to  its  meaning.  He  turned  it  over  and 
over  in  a  despairing  sort  of  way  in  his  fingers. 


38  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"If  you  will  read  it,"  said  the  Professor,  "you 
will  find  my  name  upon  it." 

"But,  Sir  Baffin,  I  cannot  read." 

"  Can't  read !  "  exclaimed  the  Professor,  in 
amazement.  "  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you 
have  never  learned  to  read  !  " 

"  High-born  people,"  replied  Sir  Dinadan,  with 
an  air  of  indifference,  "  care  nothing  for  learning. 
We  leave  that  to  the  monks." 

"This,"  said  the  Professor  to  Miss  Baffin,  "is 
one  of  the  most  extraordinary  circumstances  that 
has  yet  come  under  my  observation.  Tilly,  men- 
tion in  your  journal  that  the  members  of  the  upper 
classes  are  wholly  illiterate." 

"As  the  Lady  Tilly  is  a  stranger  here,"  said  Sir 
Dinadan,  "  I  would  be  glad  to  have  her  walk  with 
me  to  the  brow  of  the  hill.  I  will  show  her  our 
beautiful  park." 

"  That  would  be  splendid  ! "  said  Miss  Baffin. 
"  May  I  go,  pa  ? " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  Professor,  with 
hesitation,  and  looking  inquiringly  at  the  Hermit. 
As  that  individual  appeared  to  regard  the  proposi- 
tion with  no  such  feeling  of  alarm  as  would  indicate 
a  breach  of  ordinary  social  custom,  the  Professor 
continued,  "  Yes,  dear,  but  be  sure  not  to  go 
beyond  ear-shot." 

Sir  Dinadan,  smiling,  led  Miss  Baffin  away,  and 
the  Professor  sat  down  to  finish  his  cigar  and  to 


THE    ISLAND.  39 

have  some  further  conversation  with  the  Hermit. 
Before  he  had  time  to  begin,  two  other  visitors  ar- 
rived. Both  were  young  men,  gaily  dressed  in 
rich  costume.  One  of  them,  whom  the  recluse 
greeted  as  Sir  Bleoberis,  had  a  tall  slender  figure 
and  an  exceedingly  handsome  countenance,  which 
was  adorned  with  a  moustache  and  pointed  beard. 
His  companion,  Sir  Agravaine,  was  smaller,  less 
comely,  and  if  his  face  was  an  index  of  his  mind,  by 
no  means  so  intelligent. 

After  being  presented  to  the  Professor,  whom 
they  regarded  with  not  a  little  curiosity,  Sir  Bleo- 
beris said  : 

"  Holy  father,  the  fair  Ysolt  was  here  and  was 
taken  away  by  the  Baron,  was  she  not .-' " 

"  Yes ! " 

"  Alas  ! "  said  the  Knight,  "  I  see  no  hope. 
Whilst  I  am  poor,  the  Baron  will  never  relent." 

"  Never  ! "  chimed  in  Sir  Agravaine. 

"Is  your  poverty  the  only  objection  he  has  to 
you  .-* "  asked  the  Professor. 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,"  replied  the  Professor,  "  I  can  understand 
a  father's  feelings  in  such  a  case.  It  seems  hard 
upon  a  young  man,  but  naturally  he  wants  his 
daughter  to  be  comfortable.  Is  there  nothing  you 
can  turn  your  hand  to  to  improve  your  fortunes  ? " 

"  We  might  rob  somebody,"  said  Sir  Agravaine, 
with  a  reflective  air. 


40  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"  Rob  somebody ! "  exclaimed  the  Professor, 
"That  is  simply  atrocious  !  Can't  you  go  to  work  ; 
go  into  business,  start  a  factory,  speculate  in 
stocks,  or  something  of  that  kind  ? " 

"  Persons  of  my  degree  never  work,"  said  Sir 
Bleoberis. 

The  Professor  sighed,  "Ah  !  I  forgot.  We  must 
think  of  something  else.  Let  me  see  ;  young  man, 
I  think  I  can  help  you  a  little,  perhaps.  You  agree 
to  accept  some  information  from  me  and  I  believe 
I  can  make  your  fortune." 

"  Do  you  propose,"  asked  Sir  Agravaine,  "to  drug 
the  Baron,  or  to  enchant  him  so  that  he  will  change 
his  mind  ?  I  have  often  tried  love-philters  with  la- 
dies whose  hands  I  sought,  but  they  always  failed." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  exclaimed  the  Professor.  "  I  don't 
operate  with  such  trumpery  as  that.  You  agree  to 
help  me,  and  we'll  give  this  island  such  a  stirring 
up  as  will  revolutionize  it." 

The  Professor  then  proceeded  to  explain  in  de- 
tail the  nature  and  operation  of  some  of  the  scien- 
tific apparatus  which  he  had  with  him  in  his  trunk ; 
and  the  Knight  and  the  Hermit  hstened  with 
open-eyed  amazement  while  he  told  them  of  the 
telegraph,  the  telephone,  the  phonograph,  the  pho- 
tograph, and  other  modern  inventions. 

Whilst  the  Professor  waxed  eloquent,  Sir  Dina- 
dan  and  Miss  Baffin  strolled  slowly  back  towards 
the  cave. 


THE    ISLAND.  4I 

Sir  Dinadan  bad  improved  the  opportunity  to 
offer  Miss  Baffin  his  hand,  rather  abruptly. 

"  But  you  can  try  to  love  me,"  he  pleaded,  as 
she,  with  much  embarrassment  but  with  gentle- 
ness, resisted  his  importunity. 

"I  can  try,  Sir  Dinadan,"  she  said,  blushing, 
"  but  really  I  have  known  you  only  a  few  moments. 
It  is  impossible  for  me  now  to  have  any  affection 
for  you." 

"  Will  to-morrow  be  time  enough  ? " 

"  No,  no  !  I  must  have  a  much  longer  time  than 
that." 

"  I  will  fight  for  you.  We  will  get  up  a  tourna- 
ment and  you  will  see  how  I  can  unhorse  the 
bravest  knights.  If  I  knock  over  ten,  will  that 
make  any  difference  in  your  feelings  .''  " 

"  Not  the  slightest !  " 

"  Fifteen  ? " 

"You  do  not  understand.  It  is  not  the  custom 
in  our  country  to  press  a  suit  upon  a  lady  by  pok- 
ing people  off  of  a  horse." 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  fight  your  father  .'*  Will 
Sir  Bafl5n  break  a  lance  with  me  to  decide  if  I  shall 
have  you  .-' " 

♦'  My  father  does  not  fight." 

"  Does  not  fight !  Certainly  you  don't  mean 
that.?" 

"  He  is  the  Vice-President  of  the  Universal 
Peace  Society." 


42  THE   FORTUNATE   ISLAND. 

"  The  WHAT  ?  "  asked  Sir  Dinadan,  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Of  the  Peace  Society  ;  a  society  which  opposes 
fighting  of  every  kind,  under  any  circumstances." 

It  was  a  moment  or  two  before  Sir  Dinadan 
could  get  his  breath.     Then  he  said  — 

"  But  —  but  then,  Lady  Tilly,  what  —  what  do 
men  in  your  country  do  with  themselves  ? " 

Miss  Baffin  laughed  and  endeavored  to  explain 
to  him  the  modern  methods  of  existence. 

"  I  never  could  have  believed  such  a  thing  from 
other  lips,"  said  Sir  Dinadan.  "  It  is  marvellous. 
But  tell  me,  how  do  lovers  woo  in  your  land  ? " 

"  Really,  Sir  Dinadan,"  replied  Miss  Baffin, 
blushing,  "  I  have  had  no  experience  worth  speak- 
ing of  in  such  matters.  I  suppose,  perhaps,  they 
show  a  lady  that  they  love  her,  and  then  wait  until 
she  can  make  up  her  mind." 

"  I  will  wait,  then,  as  long  as  you  wish." 

"But,"  said  Miss  Baffin,  shyly,  although  plainly 
she  was  beginning  to  feel  a  genuine  interest  in 
the  proceeding,  "  your  father  and  your  mother  may 
not  think  as  you  do ;  and  then,  I  shall  not  want  to 
stay  upon  this  island  if  I  can  get  away." 

"  My  mother  always  consents  to  anything  I 
wish,  and  the  Baron  never  dares  to  oppose  what 
she  wants.  And  if  you  go  back  to  your  own  coun- 
try, I  will  go  with  you,  whether  you  accept  me  or 
not." 


THE    ISLAND.  43 

Miss  Baffin  smiled.  Sir  Dinadan  was  in  earnest, 
at  any  rate.  She  could  not  help  thinking  of  the 
sensation  that  would  be  created  in  Wingohocking 
if  she  should  walk  up  the  fashionable  street  of  the 
town  some  afternoon  with  Sir  Dinadan  in  his  parti- 
cojored  dress  of  doublet  and  stockings,  and  jaunty- 
feathered  cap,  and  sword,  while  his  long  yellow 
hair  dangled  about  his  shoulders. 

While  Sir  Dinadan  was  protesting  that  he  should 
love  her  for  ever  and  for  ever,  they  came  back 
again  to  the  Hermit's  cell,  and  then  Sir  Dinadan, 
greeting  Sir  Bleoberis  and  Sir  Agravaine,  pre- 
sented Miss  Baffin  to  them. 

Sir  Bleoberis  was  courteous  but  somewhat  in- 
different ;  Sir  Agravaine,  upon  the  contrary,  ap- 
peared to  be  deeply  impressed  with  Miss  Baffin's 
beauty.  After  gazing  at  her  steadily  for  a  few 
moments,  he  approached  her,  and  while  the  other 
members  of  the  company  engaged  in  conversation, 
he  said, — 

"  Fair  lady,  you  are  not  married  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Miss  Baffin,  with  some  indig- 
nation. 

"  Permit  me,  then,  to  offer  you  my  hand." 

•'  What  ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Baffin,  becoming 
angry. 

"  I  love  you.  Will  you  be  mine  .■' "  said  Sir  Agra- 
vaine, falling  upon  one  knee  and  trying  to  take  her 
hand. 


44  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

Miss  Baffin  boxed  his  ear  with  a  degree  of  vio- 
lence. 

Rising  with  a  rueful  countenance,  he  said,  — 

"Am  I  to  understand,  then,  that  you  decline  the 
offer  ? " 

Miss  Baffin,  without  replying,  walked  away  from 
him  and  joined  her  father. 

Sir  Dinadan  was  asking  the  Hermit  for  a  few 
simples  with  which  to  relieve  the  suffering  of  his 
noble  mother. 

"I  judge,  from  what  you  say,"  remarked  the 
Professor,  "  that  the  Baroness  is  afflicted  with 
lumbago.  The  Hermit's  remedies,  I  fear,  will 
be  ineffectual.  Permit  me  to  recommend  you 
to  iron  her  noble  back,  and  to  apply  a  porous 
plaster." 

Sir  Dinadan  wished  to  have  the  process  more 
clearly  explained.  The  Professor  unfolded  the 
matter  in  detail,  and  said,  — 

"  I  have  some  plasters  in  my  trunk,  down  there 
upon  the  beach." 

"  Then  you  are  a  leech  ?  "  asked  Sir  Dinadan. 

"Matilda,  my  child,"  remarked  the  Professor, 
"  observe  that  word  '  leech  '  used  by  Sir  Dinadan  ! 
How  very  interesting  it  is !  Not  exactly  a  leech, 
Sir  Dinadan  ;  but  it  is  my  habit  to  try  to  know  a 
little  of  everything." 

"  Can  you  cast  a  lover's  horoscope  ?  "  asked  Sir 
Agravaine,  looking  at  Matilda. 


THE    ISLAND.  45 

"Young  man,"  said  the  Professor,  sternly,  "there 
is  no  such  foolery  as  a  horoscope  ;•  and  as  for  love, 
you  had  better  let  it  alone  until  you  have  more  wit 
and  a  heavier  purse." 

"  I  wish  you  and  the  Lady  Tilly  to  come  with  me 
to  the  castle,"  remarked  Sir  Dinadan.  *'  My  father 
will  welcome  you  heartily  if  you  can  medicine  the 
sickness  of  my  mother ;  and  she  will  be  eager  to 
receive  your  fair  daughter." 

"  I  will  go,  of  course,"  replied  the  Professor ; 
"you  are  very  kind.  Tilly,  we  had  better  accept,  I 
think  ? " 

Miss  Baffin  was  willing  to  leave  the  matter 
wholly  in  the  hands  of  her  father. 

After  requesting  Sir  Dinadan  to  have  his  lug- 
gage brought  up  from  the  beach,  the  Professor 
bade  adieu  to  the  Hermit,  and  then  turning  to  Sir 
Bleoberis,  who  stood  with  a  disconsolate  air  by  the 
fire,  he  said  : 

"  I  will  see  you  again  about  your  affair ;  and 
meantime  you  may  depend  upon  my  using  my  in- 
fluence with  the  Baron  to  remove  his  prejudices. 
I  will  dance  at  your  wedding  yet ;  that  is,  figura- 
tively speaking,  of  course  ;  for,  as  a  precise  matter 
of  fact,  I  do  not  know  how  to  dance." 

As  the  Professor  and  Sir  Dinadan  and  Miss 
Baffin  left  the  cell.  Sir  Agravaine  approached  the 
lady  and  whispered  : 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say  you  don't  love  me  ? " 


46  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND, 

Miss  Baffin  twitched  the  skirt  of  her  gown  to  one 
side  in  a  scornful  way,  and  passed  on  without  re- 
plying. 

"  Women,"   sighed   Sir  Agravaine,  as  he  looked , 
mournfully  after  her,  "  are  so  incomprehensible.     I 
wish  I  knew  what  she  meant." 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         4/ 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS. 

S  Sir  Dinadan  led  the  Professor  and  Miss 
Baffin  along  the  lovely  path  which  went 
winding  through  the  woods  toward  the 
castle,  the  Professor  lighted  another  cigar,  and 
in  response  to  Sir  Dinadan,  he  entered  upon  an 
explanation  of  the  nature  of  tobacco,  the  methods 
and  extent  of  its  use,  and  its  effect  upon  the  human 
system. 

"The  Lady  Tilly,  of  course  she  smokes  some- 
times, also  ? "  asked  Sir  Dinadan. 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  Miss  Baffin,  "  ladies  in  my 
country  never  do." 

"  Of  course  not,"  added  the  Professor. 

"  And  yet,  if  it  is  so  pleasing  and  so  beneficial  as 
you  say,"  responded  the  youth,  "  why  should  not 
ladies  attempt  it  ?  " 

The  Professor  really  could  not  say  ;  Sir  Dinadan 
was  pressing  him  almost  too  closely.  He  compro- 
mised further  discussion  by  yielding  promptly,  al- 
though with  a  melancholy  reflection  that  his  store 


48  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

of  cigars  was  small,  to  a  request  to  teach  Sir  Dina- 
dan,  at  the  earliest  opportunity,  to  smoke. 

As  they  neared  the  castle,  the  Professor's  atten- 
tion was  absorbed  in  observing  the  details  of  the 
structure.  It  was  a  massive  edifice  of  stone,  having 
severe  outlines  and  no  ornamentation  worthy  of  the 
name,  but  presenting,  from  the  very  grandeur  of  its 
proportions,  an  impressive  and  not  unpleasing  ap- 
pearance. It  was  surrounded  by  a  wide  fosse  filled 
with  water  ;  and  the  Professor  was  delighted  to  ob- 
serve, as  they  drew  near,  that  the  entrance  was 
protected  with  a  portcullis  and  a  drawbridge.  The 
bridge  was  drawn  up,  and  the  iron  portcullis,  made 
of  bars  of  huge  size,  was  closed. 

"  Magnificent,  isn't  it,  Tilly .-' "  exclaimed  the 
Professor,  gleefully.  "  It  is  probably  the  most  per- 
fect specimen  of  early  English  architecture  now 
upon  earth.  Most  fortunately  I  have  in  my  trunks 
a  photographic  apparatus  with  which  to  obtain  a 
picture  of  it." 

Sir  Dinadan  seized  a  curved  horn  which  hung 
upon  the  branch  of  a  tree,  and  blew  a  blast  loud 
and  long  upon  it. 

The  Professor  regarded  the  performance  with  in- 
tense interest  and  not  a  little  enthusiasm. 

The  warder  of  the  castle  appeared  at  the  grat- 
ing, and,  perceiving  Sir  Dinadan,  saluted  him  ; 
then  lowering  the  drawbridge  and  lifting  the  port- 
cullis, which  ascended  with  many  hideous  creaks 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.        49 

and  groans  from  the  rusty  iron,  Sir  Dinadan  and 
his  companions  entered. 

Leaving  the  Professor  and  Miss  Baffin  comfort- 
ably seated  in  a  great  hall,  the  walls  of  which  were 
adorned  with  curious  tapestries  dark  with  age,  with 
swords  and  axes  and  trophies  of  the  chase,  Sir  Din- 
adan went  in  search  of  the  Baron. 

"  Little  did  we  think,  Tilly,"  said  the  Professor, 
looking  around,  "  when  we  left  New  York  four 
weeks  ago  —  it  seems  more  like  four  years  —  that 
we  should  find  ourselves,  within  a  month,  in  such  a 
place  as  this." 

"  I  can  hardly  believe  it  yet,"  responded  Miss 
Baffin. 

"  It  does  seem  like  a  dream.  And  yet  we  are 
certainly  wide  awake,  and  we  are  in  the  hall  of  a 
real  castle,  waiting  for  real  people  to  come  to  us." 

"  Sir  Dinadan  seems  very  real,  too,"  said  Miss 
Baffin,  timidly. 

"  Very  !  There  can  be  no  doubt  about  it." 

"  And  he  behaves  like  a  real  young  man,  too," 
continued  Miss  Baffin.  "  He  proposed  to  me  this 
morning." 

"  What !  Proposed  to  you  !  Incredible  !  Why,  the 
boy  has  not  known  you  more  than  an  hour  or  two." 

"  He  is  a  man,  pa  ;  not  a  boy,"  said  Miss  Baffin, 
a  little  hurt.  "  It  was  rather  sudden  ;  but,  then, 
genuine  affection  sometimes  manifests  itself  in  that 
way." 


50  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

The  Professor  smiled  ;  he  perceived  the  exact 
situation  of  things.  Then  he  looked  very  serious 
again.  This  was  a  contingency  of  which  he  had 
not  taken  account. 

"  Well,  Tilly,"  he  said,  "  I  hardly  know  what  to 
say  about  the  matter.  It  is  so  completely  unex- 
pected.    You  didn't  accept  him  .-'  " 

"  No  ;  not  exactly,  but  — " 

"  Very  well,  then.  We  will  leave  the  situation  as 
it  is  for  the  present.  When  we  have  been  here 
longer  we  can  better  determine  what  we  should 
do." 

Sir  Dinadan  entered  with  the  Baron.  The  Baron 
greeted  his  guests  with  warmth,  making  no  allu- 
sion to  the  occurrences  in  the  Hermit's  cell,  and 
appearing,  indeed,  to  have  forgotten  them. 

"  It  is  enough,  sir,  and  fair  damsel,  that  misfortune 
has  thrown  you  upon  our  shores.  You  shall  make 
this  your  home  while  you  live." 

"  A  thousand  thanks,"  responded  the  Professor. 

"  I  cherish  the  belief  that  I  can  be  of  service  to 
you.  By  the  way,  may  I  ask  how  is  the  noble 
Lady  Bors  ? " 

"  Suffering  greatly.  My  son  tells  me  you  are  a 
wise  leech,  and  can  give  her  release  from  her 
pain." 

"  I  hope  I  can.  If  you  will  permit  my  daughter, 
here,  to  see  the  lady  and  to  follow  my  directions, 
we  may  be  able  to  help  her." 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         $1 

"There,"  said  the  Baron,  waving  his  hand,  "are 
your  apartments.  When  you  have  made  ready  we 
will  summon  you  to  our  banquet." 

"  Your  property,  which  was  upon  the  beach,  will 
be  placed  before  you  very  soon,"  said  Sir  Dinadan. 

The  Professor  and  Miss  Baffin  entered  the 
rooms,  and  the  Baron  withdrew  with  his  son. 

When  the  trunks  came  and  were  opened,  the 
guests  arrayed  themselves  in  their  finest  costumes, 
and  Miss  Baffin  contrived  to  give  to  her  beauty  a 
bewildering  effect  by  an  artistic  arrangement  of 
frippery,  which  received  its  consummation  when 
she  placed  some  lovely  artificial  flowers  in  her 
hair. 

Then  the  Professor,  giving  her  certain  plasters  and 
a  soothing  drug  or  two,  requested  a  servant,  who 
stood  outside  the  door,  to  announce  to  Lady  Bors 
that  Miss  Baffin  was  ready  to  give  her  treatment. 

Sir  Dinadan  came  forward  and  gallantly  escorted 
Miss  Baffin  to  his  mother's  room  ;  where,  after  pre- 
senting her,  he  left  her  and  returned  to  the  Profes- 
sor. 

The  young  man  led  the  Professor  about  the 
castle,  showing  him  its  apartments,  its  furniture 
and  decorations,  with  an  earnest  purpose  to  try  to 
find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  father  of  the  woman 
he  loved.  The  Professor,  for  his  part,  was  charmed 
with  his  companion,  and  his  interest  in  the  castle 
and  its  appurtenances  increased  every  moment. 


$2  THE   FORTUNATE   ISLAND. 

"  This,"  said  Sir  Dinadan,  pausing  before  a  large 
oaken  door,  barred  with  iron,  "  is  the  portal  to  the 
upper  room  of  the  south  tower.  In  this  chamber 
the  Baron  has  confined  Ysolt,  my  sister,  until  she 
consents  to  think  no  more  of  Sir  Bleoberis." 

"  Locked  her  up,  has  he  ?     That  seems  hard." 

"  Cruel,  is  it  not  .-*  " 

"  You  favor  the  suit  of  the  Knight,  do  you  .-' " 
nquired  the  Professor. 

"  I  would  let  Ysolt  choose  for  herself  He  is  a 
worthy  man  ;  but  he  has  poverty." 

"  We  must  try  to  help  him,"  said  the  Professor. 

"  You  would  act  differently  in  such  a  case  ;  would 
you  not  .-*  "  asked  Sir  Dinadan,  rather  eagerly. 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course  ;  that  is,  I  mean,"  said  the 
Professor,  suddenly  recollecting  himself,  and  what 
Miss  Baffin  had  told  him,  "  I  mean,  I  would  think 
about  it.  I  would  give  the  matter  thoughtful  con- 
sideration." 

Sir  Dinadan  sighed,  and  asked  the  Professor  if 
he  would  come  with  him  to  the  dining-hall. 

It  was  a  noble  room.  As  the  Professor  entered 
it  with  Sir  Dinadan,  as  he  looked  at  the  vast  fire- 
place filled  with  burning  logs,  because  the  air  of  the 
castle  was  chilly  even  in  summer  time,  at  the 
rudely  carved  beams  that  traversed  the  ceiling,  at 
the  quaint  curtains  and  curious  ornaments  upon 
the  walls,  at  the  long  table  which  stretched  across 
the  floor  and  bore  upon  its  polished  surface  a  mul- 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         53 

titude  of  vessels  of  strange  and  often  fantastic 
shapes,  he  could  hardly  believe  his  senses.  These 
things,  this  method  of  existence,  he  had  read  about 
myriads  of  times,  but  they  had  never  seemed  very 
real  to  him  until  he  encountered  them  here  face  to 
face. 

These  people  among  whom  he  had  come  by  such 
strange  mischance  actually  lived  and  moved  here, 
amid  these  scenes,  and  they  were  as  common  and 
as  prosy  to  them  as  the  scenes  in  his  own  home  in 
the  little  enclosure  hard  by  the  walls  of  the  univer- 
sity building  at  Wingohocking. 

It  was  that  home  and  its  equipment  that  seemed 
strange  and  incongruous  to  him  now.  As  he 
thought  about  it,  he  felt  that  he  would  experience 
an  actual  nervous  shock  if  he  should  suddenly  be 
plumped  down  in  his  own  library.  Very  oddly,  as 
his  mind  reverted  to  the  subject,  his  memory  re- 
called with  peculiarly  vivid  distinctness  an  old  and 
faded  dressing-gown  in  which  he  used  to  come  to 
breakfast  ;  and  a  blue  cream -jug  with  a  broken 
handle,  which  used  to  be  placed  before  him  at  the 
meal. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  the  dressing-gown  and  the 
defective  jug  were  as  far  back  in  the  misty  past  as 
such  a  social  condition  as  that  with  which  he  had 
now  been  brought  into  contact  would  have  seethed 
if  he  had  thought  of  it  a  month  ago. 

As  the  servants  entered,  bearing  the  viands  upon 


54  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

* 

large  dishes,  the  Baron  made  his  appearance  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  room,  and  a  moment  later  Lady 
Bors  walked  slowly  in,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of 
Miss  Baffin. 

"  Your  sweet  daughter,"  she  said,  when  the  Pro- 
fessor had  been  presented  to  her,  "  has  eased  my 
pain  already.  I  think  she  must  be  an  angel  sent 
to  me  by  Heaven." 

"She  is  an  angel,"  said  Sir  Dinadan,  emphat- 
ically, so  that  his  mother  looked  at  him  curiously. 
Miss  Baffin  blushed. 

"  Angels,  my  lady,  do  not  come  with  porous 
plasters,"  said  the  Professor,  smiling. 

"  I  love  her  already,  whether  she  is  angel  or 
woman,"  replied  Lady  Bors,  patting  Miss  Baffin's 
arm. 

"So  do — ,"  Sir  Dinadan  did  not  complete  the 
sentence.  It  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  per- 
haps be  getting  a  little  too  demonstrative. 

"  The  Lady  Tilly,"  said  the  Baroness,  "  has  told 
me  something  of  the  adventure  which  brought  you 
here.  Will  you  be  so  courteous  as  to  tell  us  more, 
and  to  inform  us  of  that  strange  and  wonderful 
land  from  which  you  have  come  .■*  " 

"  Willingly,  madam,"  replied  the  Professor.  And 
so,  while  the  meal  was  in  progress,  the  Professor, — 
not  neglecting  the  food,  for  he  was  really  hungry, 
—  tried,  in  the  plainest  language  he  could  command, 
to  convey  to  the  minds  of  his  hearers  some  notion 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         55 

of  the  marvels  of  modern  civilization.  The  Baron, 
Lady  Bors,  and  Sir  Dinadan  asked  many  questions, 
and  they  more  than  once  expressed  the  greatest 
astonishment  at  the  revelations  made  in  the  Pro- 
fessor's narrative. 

"  I  will  show  you  some  of  these  wonders,"  said 
Professor  Baffin.  "  Most  happily  I  have  with  me 
in  my  trunks  quite  a  number  of  instruments,  such 
as  those  I  have  told  you  of." 

"  In  your  trunks  ! "  exclaimed  the  Baron.  "  You 
do  not  wear  trunks,  as  we  do." 

The  Professor  at  once  explained  the  misappre- 
hension. When  he  had  done,  there  was  heard  in 
the  room  the  twanging  of  the  strings  of  a  rude 
musical  instrument. 

"  It  is  the  minstrel,"  said  Sir  Dinadan,  as  the 
Professor  and  Miss  Baffin  looked  around. 

The  Professor  was  delighted. 

"  He  is  going  to  sing,"  said  the  Baron. 

The  bard,  after  a  few  preliminary  thrums  upon 
an  imbecile  harp,  burst  into  song.  He  occupied 
several  moments  in  reciting  a  ballad  of  chivalry, 
and  although  his  manner  was  dramatic,  his  voice 
was  sadly  cracked  and  out  of  tune. 

"  Tilly,"  said  the  Professor,  "  remember  to  note 
in  your  journal  that  the  musical  system  here  is 
constructed  from  a  defective  minor  scale,  with  in- 
correct intervals.  I  observed  precisely  the  same 
characteristics  in   the  song  that  our  Irish  nurse, 


56  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

Mary,  used  to  put  you  to  sleep  with  when  you 
were  a  baby.  I  stood  outside  the  chamber  door 
one  night,  and  wrote  the  strain  down  as  she  sang 
it.     This  proves  that  it  is  very  ancient." 

"  You  like  the  song,  then  .-• "  asked  the  Baron. 

"  It  is  very  interesting,  indeed  —  very  !  "  replied 
the  Professor.  "  I  think  we  shall  obtain  a  great 
deal  of  valuable  information  here.  No,  Tilly,  you 
had  better  refuse  it,"  said  the  Professor,  observing 
that  Sir  Dinadan,  who  appeared  to  be  animated  by 
a  resolute  purpose  to  stuff  Miss  Baffin,  was  press- 
ing another  dish  upon  her,  "  you  will  spoil  your 
night's  rest." 

"  Do  you  sing.  Sir  Baffin  .■' "  inquired  Lady  Bors. 

"  Never  in  company,  my  lady,"  replied  the  Pro- 
fessor; "my  vocalization  would  excite  too  much 
alarm." 

The  Baron  and  his  wife  manifestly  did  not  com- 
prehend the  pleasantry. 

"  My  daughter  sings  very  nicely  ;  but  you  can 
hear  her  sing  without  her  lips  being  opened.  Ex- 
cuse me  for  a  moment." 

The  Professor  went  to  his  apartment,  and  pres- 
ently returned,  bringing  with  him  a  phonograph. 
Placing  it  upon  the  table,  he  turned  the  crank. 
From  the  funnel  at  once  issued  a  lovely  soprano 
voice,  singing,  with  exquisite  enunciation  and  in- 
flection, a  song,  every  word'of  which  was  heard  by 
the  listeners. 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         $7 

Lady  Bors  looked  scared,  Sir  Dinadan  crossed 
himself,  the  Baron  eyed  the  Professor  doubtfully, 
the  minstrel  over  in  the  corner  laid  down  his  harp, 
and  relieved  his  overcharged  feelings  by  bursting 
into  tears,  which  he  wiped  away  with  the  sleeve  of 
his  tunic. 

"It  must  be  magic,"  said  the  Baron,  at  last;  "no 
mere  man  could  hide  an  angelic  spirit  in  such  a 
place,  and  compel  it  to  sing." 

"  Allow  me  to  explain,"  said  the  Professor ;  and 
then  he  unfolded  the  mechanism,  and  showed  the 
method  of  its  operation.  "  My  daughter  sang  up 
several  songs  for  me  before  we  left  home.  They 
were  stored  away  here  for  future  use.  Tilly,  my 
love,  sing  something,  so  that  our  friends  can  per- 
ceive that  it  is  the  same  voice." 

Miss  Baffin,  after  some  hesitation,  began  "  The 
Last  Rose  of  Summer."  While  she  sang,  Sir'Din- 
adan  looked  at  her  with  rapture  depicted  on  his 
countenance.  When  she  had  done  he  reflected  for 
an  instant,  and  then,  rising  and  walking  over  to  the 
place  where  the  minstrel  sat,  he  seized  by  the  ear 
that  unfortunate  operator  with  defective  minor 
scales,  and,  leading  him  to  the  door,  he  kicked  him 
into  the  hall. 

This  appeared  to  relieve  Sir  Dinadan's  feelings. 

When  he  returned,  the  Professor  persuaded  him 
to  have  his  voice  re(!orded  by  the  phonograph  ; 
and  by  the  time  the  Baron   and    Lady  Bors  had 


58  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

also  tried  the  experiment,  the  faith  of  the  family 
in  the  powers  of  Professor  Baffin  had  risen  to 
such  a  pitch  that  the  Baron  would  have  been  al- 
most ready  to  lay  wagers  in  favor  of  his  om- 
nipotence. 

The  Professor  that  evening  accepted  for  himself 
and  his  daughter  a  very  urgent  invitation  to  make 
the  castle  their  home,  at  least  until  Fate  and  the 
future  should  determine  if  they  were  to  remain  per- 
manently upon  the  island.  The  chance  that  they 
would  ever  escape  seemed  indeed,  exceedingly 
slender ;  and  the  Professor  resolved  to  accept 
the  promise  with   philosophical  resignation. 

He  employed  much  of  his  time  during  the  first 
weeks  that  he  was  the  Baron's  guest  in  making  the 
Baron  familiar  with  some  of  the  wonders  of  modern 
discovery  and  invention.  The  Baron  also  was  deeply 
interested  in  an  exhibition  given  by  the  Professor 
of  the  powers  of  his  patent  india-rubber  life-raft, 
which  the  Professor  brought  up  from  the  beach 
folded  into  a  small  bundle.  After  inflating  it,  to 
the  amazement  of  the  spectators,  he  put  it  into  the 
fosse  that  surrounded  the  castle  and  paddled  about 
upon  it.  The  raft  was  allowed  to  remain  in  the 
ditch  ready  for  use. 

The  Professor  often  went  outside  the  castle  walls 
to  talk  with  Sir  Bleoberis,  and  to  comfort  him. 
The  Professor  explained  the' telegraph  and  the  loco- 
motive to  the  Knight ;  and  when  the  Knight  as- 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         59 

sured  him  that  the  armorers  of  the  island  could 
make  the  machinery  that  would  be  required,  if  they 
should  receive  suitable  instructions,  the  Professor 
arranged  to  build  a  short  railroad  line  and  a  tele- 
graph line  in  partnership  with  Sir  Bleoberis,  if  the 
latter  would  obtain  the  necessary  concession  from 
King  Brandegore.  Professor  Baffin  was  of  the 
opinion  that  the  Knight,  by  such  means,  might 
ultimately  acquire  great  wealth. 

Meantime  Sir  Dagonet  had  been  seen  several 
times  of  late  in  the  vicinity  of  the  castle,  and  once 
he  had  made  again  a  formal  demand  upon  the  Baron 
for  Ysolt's  hand.  This  the  Baron  refused,  where- 
upon Sir  Dagonet  returned  an  insolent  reply  that 
he  would  have  her  in  spite  of  her  father's  objection. 
The  Professor  sincerely  pitied  both  Ysolt  and  Sir 
Bleoberis,  but  as  the  Baron  always  became  violently 
angry  when  the  suffering  of  the  lovers  was  alluded 
to,  the  Professor  disliked  to  plead  their  cause. 

It  occurred  to  him,  however,  one  day  that  there 
could  be  no  possible  harm  in  arranging  to  permit 
the  forlorn  creatures  to  converse  with  each  other  ; 
and  so,  with  the  help  of  Miss  Baffin,  who  was  al- 
lowed to  enter  the  captive's  room,  he  fixed  up  a 
telephone,  the  machinery  of  which  he  had  in  one 
of  his  trunks,  with  a  wire  running  from  Ysolt's 
window  to  a  point  some  distance  beyond  the  castle 
wall. 
^    The  battery  with  which    the    instruments  were 


6o  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

supplied  was  placed  in  an  iron  box  furnished  by 
Sir  Bleoberis,  and  hidden  behind  a  huge  oak  tree. 

The  lovers  were  delighted  with  the  telephone  and 
its  performances  ;  but  the  Professor's  ingenious 
kindness  caused  him  a  great  deal  of  serious  trouble. 

It  seems  that  Miss  Baffin  one  morning  had  been 
showing  her  father's  umbrella  to  Ysolt,  and  making 
her  acquainted  with  its  peculiarities  and  uses. 

When  Miss  Baffin  had  withdrawn,  Sir  Bleoberis 
began  to  breathe  through  the  telephone  protesta- 
tions of  his  undying  love,  and  finally  he  appealed 
to  Ysolt  to  fly  with  him.  Of  course  he  expected 
nothing  to  come  of  this  appeal,  for  he  had  not  the 
slightest  conception  of  any  method  by  which  Ysolt 
could  escape  from  her  prison.  He  merely  threw  it 
in,  in  a  general  sort  of  a  way,  as  an  expression  of 
the  intensity  of  his  affection. 

But  it  suggested  to  the  mind  of  Ysolt  an  inge- 
nious thought ;  and  she  responded  through  the  tel- 
ephone that  if  Sir  Bleoberis  would  keep  out  of  sight 
and  have  his  gallant  steed  ready,  she  would  join 
him  in  a  few  moments.  The  Knight's  heart  beat 
so  fiercely  at  this  news  that  it  fairly  made  his  ar- 
mor vibrate. 

Obeying  the  orders  of  Ysolt,  he  went  behind  the 
oak  and  sat  upon  the  iron  box  containing  the  Pro- 
fessor's battery  and  electrical  apparatus. 

Ysolt's  window  was  but  twenty  feet  from  the  sur- 
face of  the  water  in  the  fosse.     Directly  beneath  it» 


Why  Sir  Blkobebis  did  not  Leap  to  tbce  Rescue.     Page  61. 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         6l 

by  a  most  fortunate  chance,  floated  the  life-raft  of 
Professor  Baffin.  The  brave  girl,  climbing  upon 
the  stone  sill  of  the  window,  hoisted  the  umbrella, 
and  sailing  swiftly  downward  through  the  air,  she 
alighted  safely  upon  the  raft.  A  single  push  upon 
the  wall  sent  it  to  the  further  side  of  the  ditch, 
whereupon  Ysolt  leaped  ashore,  unperceived  by  the 
warder  or  by  any  one  in  the  castle. 

A  moment  more,  and  seated  upon  the  steed  of 
her  cavalier,  with  his  strong  arm  around  her,  she 
would  be  flying  to  peace  and  happiness  and  love's 
sweet  fulfilment,  far,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
angry  Baron's  power. 

But,  alas,  human  life  is  so  full  of  mischances ! 
As  Ysolt  neared  the  great  oak  behind  which  her 
lover  sat,  Sir  Dagonet  came  riding  carelessly  across 
the  lawn.  Seeing  her  he  spurred  his  horse  for- 
ward, and,  right  before  the  eyes  of  Sir  Bleoberis, 
he  grasped  her  by  the  arm,  tossed  her  to  his  sad- 
dle and  dashed  away  across  the  country. 

But  why  did  not  Sir  Bleoberis  leap  to  the  rescue  ? 

Sir  Bleoberis  tried  with  all  his  might  to  do  so  ; 
but  he  had  on  a  full  suit  of  steel  armor,  and  the 
Professor's  battery,  by  some  means  even  yet  unex- 
plained, so  charged  the  cover  of  the  box  with  mag- 
netism that  it  held  the  Knight  close  down.  He 
could  not  move  a  muscle  of  his  legs.  He  writhed 
and  twisted  and  expressed  his  fury  in  language  that 
was  vehement  and  scandalous  ;  but  the  Professor's 


62  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

infamous  machine  held  him  fast  ;  and  he  was  com- 
pelled to  sit  by,  imbecile  and  raging,  while  the 
wind  bore  to  his  ears  the  heart-rending  screams  of 
his  sweetheart  as  she  cried  to  him  to  come  and 
save  her  from  an  awful  fate. 

The  shrieks  of  the  unhappy  Ysolt  penetrated  to 
the  castle,  and  at  once  the  Baron  ran  out,  followed 
by  Sir  Dinadan,  Professor  Baffin,  and  a  host  of  the 
Baron's  retainers,  all  of  them  armed  and  ready  for 
war.  The  first  act  of  the  Professor  was  to  capture 
his  expanded  umbrella,  which  was  being  blown 
about  wildly  by  the  wind.  Furling  it,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  the  place  where  Sir  Bleoberis  sat,  trying 
to  explain  to  the  infuriated  Baron  what  had  hap- 
pened. 

"  There  !  "  said  Sir  Bleoberis,  savagely,  pointing 
to  the  Professor,  "  is  the  vile  wretch  that  did  it  all ! 
Seize  him  !  He,  he  alone  is  to  blame." 

The  Professor  was  amazed. 

"  Yes  !  "exclaimed  Sir  Bleoberis,  "  it  was  he  who 
persuaded  the  fair  Ysolt  to  leap  from  the  window  ; 
it  was  he  who  notified  Sir  Dagonet,  and  it  is  his 
wicked  enchantment  that  held  me  here  so  that  I 
could  not  fly  to  her  succor.  I  cannot  even  get  up 
now." 

"  The  man,"  said  the  Professor  to  the  Baron, 
*'  appears  to  be  suffering  from  intellectual  aberra- 
tion. I  can't  imagine  what  he  means.  Why  don't 
you  rise  ? " 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         63 

"  You,  foul  wizard,  know  that  I  am  held  here  by 
your  infernal  power  !  " 

"Try  to  be  calm,"  said  the  Professor,  soothingly.. 
"Your  expressions  are  too  strong.  Let  me  see — . 
Why,  bless  my  soul,  the  electrical  current  has  mag- 
netized the  box.  There,  now,"  said  the  Professor 
as  he  snipped  a  couple  of  the  wires,  "  try  it  again." 

Sir  Bleoberis  arose  without  effort.  Baron  Bors 
stepped  forward  and  said  sternly  : 

"  What,  you,  Sir  Bleoberis,  were  doing  here  I 
do  not  know.  I  suspect  you  of  evil  purposes.  But 
it  is  clear  you  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  seizure  of 
my  daughter,  if,  indeed,  she  has  been  carried  off 
by  Sir  Dagonet.  You  may  go.  But  as  for  you," 
shouted  the  Baron,  turning  to  the  Professor,  "  I 
perceive  that  your  devilish  arts  have  been  used 
agains.t  me  and  my  family  while  you  have  been 
eating  my  bread.  The  world  shall  no  longer  be 
burdened  by  such  a  monster.  Away  with  him  to 
the  scaffold ! " 

"  This,"  said  the  Professor,  as  the  perspiration 
stood  in  beads  upon  his  pallid  face,  "  is  painful ; 
very  painful.  Allow  me  to  explain.  The  fact  is 
I—" 

"Away  !  "  said  the  Baron,  with  an  impatient  ges- 
ture.    "  Off  with  his  head  as  quickly  as  possible  ! " 

"But,  my  dear  sir,"  contended  the  Professor,  as 
the  Baron's  retainers  seized  him,  "this  is  simply 
awful !  No  court,  no  jury,  no  trial,  no  chance  to  tell 


64  THE   FORTUNATE   ISLAND. 

my  Story  !  It  is  not  just.  It  is  not  fair  play.  Per- 
mit me,  for  one  moment,  to  —  " 

"  To  the  block  with  him  ! "  screamed  the  Baron. 
"Have  no  more  parley  about  it !  " 

Sir  Bleoberis  came  forward. 

"  Sir  Bors,"  he  said,  "  this,  in  a  measure,  is  my 
quarrel.  It  falls  to  me  by  right  to  punish  this 
wretch.  Will  you  permit  me  ? "  and  then  Sir 
Bleoberis  struck  the  Professor  in  the  face  with  his 
mailed  gauntlet. 

Professor  Baffin  would  have  assailed  him  upon 
the  spot,  but  for  the  fact  that  he  was  a  captive. 

"  He  means  that  you  shall  fight  him,"  said  Sir 
Dinadan,  who  retained  his  faith  in  the  Professor, 
remembering  his  own  affection  for  Miss  Baffin. 

"  Certainly  I  will,"  said  the  Professor.  "  Where, 
and  when,  and  how  ?  I  would  like  to  have  it  out 
right  here  on  the  spot." 

It  is  melancholy  to  think  what  would  have  been 
the  sorrow  of  the  members  of  the  Universal  Peace 
Society,  of  which  the  Professor  was  the  first  vice- 
president,  if  they  could  have  observed  the  eager- 
ness with  which  that  good  man  seemed  to  long  for 
the  fray,  and  the  fiery  rage  which  beamed  from 
his  eyes  until  the  sparks  almost  appeared  to  fly 
from  his  spectacles. 

Miss  Baffin  at  this  moment  rushed  upon  the 
scene,  and  in  wild  affi'ight  flung  her  arms  about  her 
father. 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.        6$ 

"The  contest  shall  be  made,"  said  the  Baron, 
sternly.     "  Unhand  him  !  " 

The  Professor  hurriedly  explained  the  matter  to 
Matilda,  who  sobbed  piteously. 

"  You  shall  have  my  armor,  my  horse,  and  my 
lance,"  said  Sir  Dinadan  in  a  kindly  voice  to  the 
Professor.  "  Go  and  get  them,"  he  continued, 
speaking  to  some  of  the  servants. 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  Professor.  "I  am  much 
obliged.     You  are  a  fine  young  man." 

"  But,  pa,"  said  Miss  Baffin  through  her  tears, 
"  surely  you  are  not  going  to  fight.  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  love." 

"  And  you  a  member  of  the  Peace  Society,  too." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  my  child.  You  may  omit  to 
note  this  extraordinary  occurrence  in  your  journal. 
The  Society  may  as  well  remain  in  ignorance  of 
it.  But  I  must  conform  to  the  customs  of  the 
place." 

"  How  can  you  ever  do  anything  upon  a  horse, 
with  armor  and  a  lance  .-*      It  is  dreadful ! " 

"  No,  my  child,  it  may  perhaps  be  regarded  as 
fortunate.  For  many  years  I  have  longed  to  ob- 
serve the  practices  of  ancient  chivalry  more  closely  ; 
that  opportunity  has  now  come.  I  am  about  to 
have  actual  practical  experience  with  them." 

Miss  Baffin  wiped  her  eyes  as  Sir  Dinadan  came 
to  her  side  and  tried  to  comfort  her.  Sir  Agra- 
vaine,  who  had  ridden  up  during  the  excitement, 


66  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

dismounted  when  he  saw  Miss  Baffin,  and  pulling 
Sir  Dinadan  by  the  sleeve,  he  whispered  : 

"  You  are  acquainted  with  that  lady  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Would  you  mind  ascertaining  for  me  if  I  am  to 
understand  her  remarkable  conduct  to  me  as  tanta- 
mount to  a  refusal  ?  I  don't  want  to  trouble  you, 
but—" 

Sir  Dinadan  turned  abruptly  away,  leaving  Sir 
Agravaine  still  involved  in  doubt. 

When  the  armor  came,  Sir  Dinadan  helped  the 
Professor  to  put  it  on.  It  was  a  size  or  two  too 
large  for  him,  and  the  Professor  had  a  considerable 
amount  of  difficulty  in  adjusting  the  pieces  prop- 
erly, but,  with  the  help  of  Sir  Dinadan,  he  at  last 
succeeded. 

"  Bring  me  my  lance ! "  he  exclaimed,  with  a 
firm  voice,  as  he  stepped  forward. 

"  It  is  here,"  said  Sir  Dinadan. 

"Farewell,  my  child,"  said  the  Professor  to  Miss 
Baffin,  making  a  futile  attempt  to  bend  his  elbows 
so  that  he  could  embrace  her.  "  Farewell !  "  and 
the  Professor  tried  to  kiss  her,  but  he  merely  suc- 
ceeded in  injuring  her  nose  with  the  visor  of  his 
helmet. 

"  O  pa ! "  said  Miss  Baffin,  weeping,  "  if  you 
should  be  killed." 

"  No  danger  of  that  love,  none  at  all.  I  am  per- 
fectly safe.     I  feel  exactly  as  if  I  were  a  cooking- 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.        6/ 

stove,  to  be  sure ;  but  you  may  depend  upon  my 
giving  a  good  account  of  myself.  And  now,  dear, 
adieu  !  Ho,  there  !  "  exclaimed  the  Professor,  with 
faint  reminiscences  of  the  tragic  stage  coming  into 
his  mind.     "  Bring  me  my  steed  !  " 

The  determined  efforts  of  four  muscular  men 
were  required  to  mount  the  Professor  upon  his 
horse.  And  when  he  was  fairly  astride,  with  his 
lance  in  his  hand,  he  felt  as  if  he  weighed  at  least 
three  thousand  pounds,  and  the  weapon  seemed 
quite  as  large  as  the  jib-boom  of  the  "  Morning 
Star." 

The  warrior  did  his  best  to  sit  his  horse  grace- 
fully ;  but  the  miserable  beast  pranced  and  cur- 
veted in  such  a  very  unreasonable  manner  that  his 
spectacles  were  continually  shaking  loose,  and  in 
his  efforts  to  fix  them,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
hold  his  horse,  he  lost  control  of  his  lance,  and 
came  near  impaling  two  or  three  of  the  spectators. 

Sir  Dinadan's  own  groom  then  took  the  bridle- 
rein,  and  leading  the  horse  quietly  to  the  jousting- 
ground  put  him  in  place  directly  opposite  to  Sir 
Bleoberis,  whose  lance  was  in  rest,  and  who  evi- 
dently intended  to  spit  the  Professor  through  and 
through  at  the  first  encounter. 

The  Professor  really  felt  uncomfortably  at  a  dis- 
advantage in  his  iron-clad  condition,  and  he  began 
to  think  that  the  sports  and  combats  of  the  olden 
time  were   perhaps   not   so   interesting   after   all, 


68  THE   FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

when  brought  within  the  range  of  practical  exper- 
ience. 

Suddenly  the  herald's  trumpet  sounded  a  blast. 
The  Professor  had  not  the  least  notion  of  the  niean- 
ing  of  the  sound,  but  Sir  Bleoberis  started  promptly 
towards  him,  and  the  Professor's  horse,  trained  at 
jousting,  also  started.  The  Professor  was  not  quite 
ready,  and  he  pulled  the  rein  hard  while  trying  to 
fix  his  lance  in  its  rest.  This  caused  the  horse  to 
swerve  sharply  around,  whereupon  the  warrior's 
spectacles  came  off,  and  the  horse  dashed  at  full 
speed  to  the  side  of  the  jousting-ground,  bringing 
the  half-blinded  Professor's  lance  up  against  a  tree, 
into  which  the  point  stuck  fast.  The  Professor  was 
hurled  with  some  violence  to  the  ground,  and  the 
horse  ran  away. 

When  they  picked  him  up  and  unlatched  his  hel- 
met, he  was  bleeding  at  the  nose. 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence,  Matilda,  of  no  conse- 
quence, I  assure  you,"  he  said.  "  I  am  shaken  up 
a  little,  but  not  hurt.  I  think,  perhaps,  I  need 
practice  at  this  kind  of  thing." 

The  Professor,  while  speaking,  felt  about  him  in 
a  bewildered  way  for  the  pocket  in  which  he  was 
used  to  keep  his  handkerchief.  But  as  the  armor 
baffled  his  efforts  to  find  it.  Miss  Baffin  offered  him 
her  kerchief  with  which  to  stanch  the  blood. 

"The  ancients,  Matilda,"  said  the  Professor,  as 
he  pressed  the  handkerchief   to  his  nose,  "  must 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.        69 

have  possessed  great  physical  strength,  and  they 
could  not  have  been  near  sighted.  By  the  way, 
where  are  my  glasses  ?  " 

Sir  Dinadan  handed  them  to  him. 

"You  will  not  attempt  to  get  on  that  horrid 
horse,  again,  pa,  will  you  ? "  said  Miss  Baffin,  en- 
treatingly, 

"  I  think  not,  my  child,  unless  I  am  forced  to  do 
so.  Jousting  is  interesting  to  read  about  ;  but  as  a 
matter  of  fact  it  is  brutal,  I  think,  Sir  Dinadan,  I 
should  be  more  comfortable  if  I  could  get  this  cast- 
iron  overcoat  off,  so  that  I  could  move  my  elbows 
without  creaking." 

Sir  Dinadan  helped  him  to  remove  his  armor,  and 
said : 

*'  My  noble  mother  has  insisted  that  Sir  Bleoberis 
shall  not  fight  with  you,  and  the  Baron  has  yielded 
to  her  wish." 

"  How  can  I  thank  you .'' "  exclaimed  Miss 
Baffin. 

Sic  Dinadan  looked  at  her  as  if  he  would  like 
to  tell  her  how,  if  he  dared  venture.  But  he  only 
said  : 

"  I  deserve  no  thanks.  My  mother  is  upon  your 
side  and  that  of  your  father.  She  asks  me  to  bring 
him  to  her." 

The  Baron  was  with  his  wife,  and  Sir  Bleoberis 
stood  before  them. 

"  Sir  Bamn,"  said  the  Baron,  "  Lady  Bors  insists 


70  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

that  you  are  innocent  of  any  wrong-doing;  and  Sir 
Bleoberis,  seeing  that  you  are  unskilled,  has  re- 
solved not  to  have  a  combat  with  you.  I  am  will- 
ing to  pardon  you  upon  one  condition :  that  you 
find  my  daughter  and  bring  her  back  to  me." 

"  That  I  should  be  willing  to  try  to  do  under  any 
circumstances,"  said  the  Professor.  "  I  regret  her 
loss  very  deeply.  But,  you  see,  I  know  nothing  of 
the  country.  I  am  afraid  I  should  not  discover  her 
if  I  should  go  alone." 

"  I  will  go  with  you,"  said  Sir  Bleoberis. 

"That  is  first-rate,"  said  the  Professor.  *'Give 
me  your  hand." 

"  We  will  keep  your  daughter  in  the  castle  as  a 
hostage,"  said  the  Baron.  "  When  you  return  with 
Ysolt  you  shall  have  the  Lady  Tilly,  and  Sir  Bleo- 
beris shall  have  Ysolt." 

"  I  am  profoundly  grateful,"  replied  Sir  Bleo- 
beris, bowing. 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Professor  to  Miss  Baffin, 
"does  the  arrangement  suit  you  ?  " 

"  It  suits  me,"  muttered  Sir  Dinadan. 

"  I  must  stay  whether  I  wish  to  or  not,"  replied 
Miss  Baffin.  "  But  I  shall  worry  about  you  every 
moment  while  you  are  gone." 

"  Sir  Dinadan  may  be  able  to  soothe  her,"  said 
Sir  Bleoberis,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  think  I  could,  if  I  were  allowed  to  try,"  in- 
sinuated Sir  Agravaine. 


THE  CASTLE  OF  BARON  BORS.         /I 

**I  charge  Sir  Dinadan  and  his  noble  parents 
with  the  task,"  said  the  Professor, 

The  entire  party,  with  the  exception  of  Sir  Agra- 
vaine,  then  returned  to  the  castle,  so  that  the  Pro- 
fessor could  make  ready  for  the  journey. 


72  THE    FORTUNATE   ISLAND. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    RESCUE. 

jROFESSOR  BAFFIN  politely  declined 
to  wear  the  armor  of  Sir  Dinadan  upon 
the  journey.  He  packed  a  few  things  in  a 
satchel,  and  putting  his  revolver  in  his  pocket,  he 
bade  adieu  to  his  daughter  and  the  members  of  the 
Baron's  family.  Mounting  his  horse  by  the  side  of 
Sir  Bleoberis,  who  rode  in  full  armor,  the  two 
trotted  briskly  out  through  the  woods  to  the  road- 
way, which  ran  by  not  far  from  the  castle. 

"  Where  shall  we  go  to  look  for  the  lady } " 
asked  the  Professor,  as  the  Knight  started  down 
the  road  at  a  rapid  pace. 

"  The  villain,  no  doubt,  has  carried  her  captive  to 
his  castle.     We  shall  seek  her  there." 

"  How  are  we  going  to  get  her  out  ?  I  have  had 
very  little  experience,  personally,  in  storming  cas- 
tles." 

"  We  shall  have  to  devise  some  plan  when  we 
get  there,"  replied  the  Knight.     "  The  castle,  un- 


THE    RESCUE.  73 

happily,  is  upon  an  island  in  the  middle  of  the 
lake." 

"And  I  can't  swim,"  said  the  Professor. 

"  Perhaps  the  King  will  give  us  help.  It  is  close 
to  the  place  where  he  holds  his  court." 

The  Professor  began  to  think  that  the  case 
looked  exceedingly  unpromising.  He  lapsed  into 
silence,  thinking  over  the  probable  results  of  the 
failure  of  his  mission ;  and  as  the  Knight  appeared 
to  be  absorbed  in  his  own  reflections,  the  pair 
rode  forward  without  engaging  in  further  con- 
versation. 

Professor  Baffin  did  not  fail  to  notice  the  extreme 
loveliness  of  the  country  through  which  they  were 
passing.  It  presented  all  the  characteristics  of  a 
perfect  English  landscape  ;  but  he  observed  that  it 
was  not  fully  cultivated,  and  that  the  agricultural 
methods  employed  were  of  a  very  primitive  kind. 

After  an  hour's  ride,  the  two  horsemen  entered  a 
wood.  Hardly  had  they  done  so  before  they  heard, 
near  to  them,  the  voice  of  a  woman  crying  loudly 
for  help.  Sir  Bleoberis  at  once  spurred  his  horse 
forward,  and  the  Professor  followed  close  behind  him. 

Presently  they  perceived  a  Knight  in  armor  en- 
deavoring to  hold  upon  the  horse  in  front  of  him 
a  young  woman  of  handsome  appearance,  who 
screamed  loudly  as  she  attempted  to  release  herself 
from  his  grasp. 

"  Drop  her ! "  exclaimed  the  Professor  in  an  ex- 


74  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

cited  manner,  and  drawing  his  revolver,  "  put  her 
down  ;  let  her  go  at  once  !  " 

The  Knight  turned,  and  seeing  the  intruders  he 
released  the  maiden,  and  levelling  his  lance,  made 
straight  for  Sir  Bleoberis  at  full  gallop. 

The  lady,  white  with  terror,  flew  to  the  Profes- 
sor, and  reposed  her  head  upon  his  bosom. 

Professor  Baffin  was  embarrassed.  He  had  no 
idea  what  he  had  better  do  or  say.  He  could  not 
repulse  the  poor  creature  ;  and  as  the  situation, 
upon  the  whole,  was  not  positively  disagreeable,  he 
permitted  her  to  remain,  sobbing  upon  his  bosom, 
while  he  watched  the  fight  and  dried  her  eyes,  in 
a  fatherly  way,  with  his  handkerchief. 

The  two  Knights  came  together  with  a  terrible 
shock  which  made  the  sparks  fly ;  but  neither  was 
unhorsed  or  injured,  and  the  lances  of  both  glanced 
aside.  They  turned,  and  made  at  each  other 
again.  This  time  the  lance  of  each  pierced  the 
armor  of  the  other,  so  that  neither  lance  could 
be  withdrawn.  It  really  seemed  as  if  the  two 
knights  would  have  to  undress  and  to  walk  off, 
leaving  their  armor  pinioned  together.  A  moment 
later  the  strange  Knight  fell  to  the  ground,  and 
lay  perfectly  still.  The  Professor  went  up  to  him 
and  taking  his  lance  from  his  hand,  so  that  Sir 
Bleoberis  could  move,  unlaced  the  Knight's  helmet. 

He  was  dead. 

The      Professor     was     inexpressibly    shocked. 


THE    RESCUE.  75 

"  Why,"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  man  is  dead  !  Most 
horrible,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Sir  Bleoberis,  coolly.  "  I  tried  to 
kill  him." 

"  You  wanted  to  murder  him  } " 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course," 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  did,"  exclaimed  the  damsel 
with  a  sweet  smile.  "  How  can  I  thank  you  ? 
And  you,  my  dear  preserver." 

"Bless  my  soul,  madam,"  exclaimed  the  Pro- 
fessor, "  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  consider  it 
perfectly  horrible." 

Turning  to  Sir  Bleoberis,  the  maiden  said,  "  It 
was  you  who  fought,  but  it  was  this  brave  and  wise 
man  who  brought  you  here,  was  it  not  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Sir  Bleoberis,  smiling. 

"  I  knew  it,"  exclaimed  the  lady,  flinging  her 
arms  around  the  Professor's  neck.  "  I  can  never 
repay  you  —  never,  never,  excepting  with  a  life  of 
devotion." 

The  Professor  began  to  feel  warm.  Disengaging 
himself  as  speedily  as  possible,  he  said  — 

"  Of  course  madam,  I  am  very  glad  you  have 
been  rescued — very.  But  I  deeply  regret  that  the 
Knight  over  there  was  slain.  What,"  asked  the 
Professor  of  Sir  Bleoberis,  "  will  you  do  with  him  .-•  " 

"  Let  him  lie.     He  is  of  no  further  use." 

"  I  never  heard  of  anything  so  shocking,"  said 
Professor  Baffin.  "  And  how  are  we  to  dispose  of 
this  lady  ? " 


^6  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"  I  will  go  with  you,"  exclaimed  the  damsel,  look- 
ing eagerly  at  the  Professor,  "  Let  me  tell  you  my 
story.  My  name  is  Bragvvaine.  I  am  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  Prince  Sagramor.  That  dead  Knight 
found  me,  a  few  hours  ago,  walking  in  the  park  by 
my  father's  castle.  Sir  Lamorak,  he  was  called. 
Riding  up  swiftly  to  me,  he  seized  me,  and  carried 
me  away.  He  brought  me,  despite  my  screams 
and  struggles,  to  this  place,  where  you  found  us 
both.  I  should  now  be  a  captive  in  his  castle  but 
for  you." 

Bragwaine  seemed  about  to  fall  upon  the  Profes- 
sor's neck  again,  but  he  pretended  to  stumble,  and 
retreated  to  a  safe  distance. 

"  Is  there  much  of  this  kind  of  thing  going  on,  — 
this  business  of  galloping  off  with  marriageable 
girls  .''  "  asked  the  Professor. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Sir  Bleoberis. 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  the  Professor ;  "  this  is  the 
second  case  I  have  encountered  to-day.  We  shall 
most  likely  have  quite  a  collection  of  rescued  dam- 
sels on  our  hands  by  the  time  we  get  back  home. 
It  is  interesting,  but  embarrassing." 

"  I  know  Prince  Sagramor,"  said  Sir  Bleoberis 
to  Bragwaine.  "  We  are  going  to  the  court,  and 
will  take  you  to  your  father." 

"  You  will  take  me.  Sir  —  Sir — " 

"  Sir  Baffin,"  explained  Sir  Bleoberis. 

"Sir  Baffin,  will  you  not?" 


THE    RESCUE.  Jf 

"  You  can  have  my  horse.     I  will  walk." 

"  I  will  ride  upon  your  horse  with  you,  and  you 
shall  hold  me  on,"  said  Bragwaine. 

"  That  is  the  custom,"  said  Bleoberis. 

"  But,"  exclaimed  the  Professor  with  an  air  of 
distress,  "  I  am  not  used  to  riding  double.  I  doubt 
if  I  can  manage  the  horse  and  hold  you  on  at  the 
same  time." 

"  You  need  not  hold  me,"  said  Bragwaine  laugh- 
ingly ;  "  I  will  hold  fast  to  you.     I  shall  not  fall." 

"But  then—" 

"  I  wi/l  go  with  you,"  said  Bragwaine  almost 
tearfully.  "  You  won  me  from  the  hands  of  that 
villain,  Lamorak,  and  I  am  not  so  ungrateful  as  to 
leave  you  to  cling  to  another  person." 

"  Well,  I  declare  ! "  exclaimed  the  Professor, 
"this  certainly  is  a  very  curious  situation  for  a 
man  like  me  to  find  himself  in.  However,  I  will 
do  the  best  I  can." 

Professor  Baffin  mounted  his  steed,  and  then  Sir 
Bleoberis  swung  the  fair  Bragwaine  up  to  a  place 
on  the  saddle  in  front  of  the  Professer.  Bragwaine 
clutched  his  coat-sleeve  tightly  ;  and  although  the 
Professor  felt  that  there  was  no  real  necessity  that 
she  should  attempt  to  preserve  her  equipoise  by 
pressing  his  shoulder  strongly  with  her  head,  he 
regarded  the  arrangement  without  very  intense 
indignation. 

He   found  that  he  could  ride  very  comfortably 


"/S  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

with  two  in  the  saddle,  but  he  felt  that  his  atten- 
tion could  be  given  more  effectively  to  the  manage- 
ment of  the  horse  if  Bragvvaine  would  stop  turning 
her  eyes  up  to  his  in  that  distracting  manner  so 
frequently. 

They  rode  along  in  silence  for  awhile.  Sud- 
denly Bragwaine  said : 

"  Sir  Baffin  ? " 

"Well;  what?" 

"  Are  you  married  ?  " 

Professor  Baffin  hardly  knew  what  answer  he  had 
better  give.    After  hesitating  for  a  moment,  he  said  : 

"  I  have  been." 

"  Then  your  wife  is  dead  ?  " 

The  Professor  could  not  lie.  He  had  to  say 
"  Yes ! " 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  murmured  Bragwaine.  "  Not 
that  she  is  dead,  but  that  you  are  free." 

Professor  Baffin  was  afraid  to  ask  why.  He  felt 
that  matters  were  becoming  serious. 

"  And  the  reason  is,"  continued  Bragwaine,  "  that 
I  have  learned  to  love  you  better  than  I  love  any 
other  one  on  earth  !  " 

She  said  this  calmly,  very  modestly,  and  quite  as 
if  it  were  a  matter  of  course. 

The  Professor  in  astonishment  looked  at  Sir  Bleo- 
beris,  who  had  heard  Bragwaine's  words.  The 
Knight  nodded  to  him  pleasantly,  and  said,  "  I  ex- 
pected this." 


THE    RESCUE.  79 

Evidently  it  was  not  an  unusual  thing  for  ladies 
so  to  express  their  feelings. 

The  somewhat  bewildered  Sir  Baffin  then  said, 
"  Well,  my  dear  child,  it  is  very  kind  indeed  for  you 
to  regard  me  in  that  manner.  I  have  done  nothing 
to  deserve  it." 

"  You  are  my  rescuer,  my  benefactor,  my  heart's 
idol ! " 

"  Persons  at  ray  time  of  life,"  said  the  Professor, 
blushing,  "have  to  be  extremely  careful.  I  will  be 
a  father  to  you,  of  course  !  Oh,  certainly,  you  may 
count  upon  me  being  a  father  to  you,  right  along.' 

"I  do  not  mean  that  I  love  you  as  a  daughter. 
You  must  marry  me ;  you  dear  Sir  Baffin."  Then 
she  actually  patted  his  cheek. 

Professor  Baffin  could  feel  the  cold  perspiration 
trickling  down  his  back. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  to  Sir  Bleoberis,  "  that  this  is, 
everything  considered,  altogether  the  most  stupen- 
dous combination  of  circumstances  that  ever  came 
within  the  range  of  my  observation.  It  is  positively 
distressing." 

"  You  will  break  my  heart  if  you  will  not  love 
me,"  said  Bragwaine,  as  if  she  were  going  to  cry. 

"Well,  well,"  replied  the  bewildered  Professor, 
"  we  can  consider  the  subject  at  some  other  time. 
Your  father,  you  know,  might  have  other  views, 
and,—" 

"The  Prince,   my   father,    will  overwhelm   you 


80  THE   FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

with  gratitude  for  saving  me.  I  know  he  will  ap- 
prove of  our  marriage.  I  will  persuade  him  to 
have  you  knighted,  and  to  secure  for  you  some 
high  place  at  court." 

"  That,"  said  the  Professor,  "  would  probably 
make  me  acutely  miserable  for  life." 

Within  an  hour  or  two  after  the  fight  with  Sir 
Lamorak,  the  Professor  and  his  companions  drew 
near  to  Callion,  the  town  in  which  King  Brande- 
gore  held  his  court. 

Just  before  entering  it  they  encountered  Prince 
Sagramor  coming  out  with  a  retinue  of  knights  in 
pursuit  of  Sir  Lamorak  and  his  daughter.  Natu- 
rally he  was  filled  with  joy  at  finding  that  she  had 
been  rescued  and  brought  back  to  him. 

After  embracing  her,  he  greeted  Sir  Bleoberis 
and  the  Professor  warmly,  thanking  them  for  the 
service  they  had  done  to  him.  Bragwaine  insisted 
upon  the  Professor's  especial  title  to  gratitude,  and 
when  she  had  told  with  eloquence  of  his  wisdom 
and  his  valor,  and  had  added  to  her  story  Sir  Ble- 
oberis's  explanation  of  the  Professor's  adventures, 
the  Prince  saluted  the  latter,  and  said  : 

"There  is  only  one  way  in  vvhich  I  can  honor 
you.  Sir  Baffin.  I  perceive  that  already  you  have 
won  the  heart  of  this  damsel.  I  had  intended  her 
for  another.  But  she  is  fairly  yours.  Take  her, 
gallant  sir,  and  with  her  a  loving  father's  blessing!  " 

Bragwaine  wept  for  happiness. 


THE    RESCUE,  8 1 

"  But,  your  highness,  if  I  might  be  permitted  to 
explain  —  "  stammered  the  Professor. 

"  I  know  !  "  replied  the  Prince.  "  You  will  per- 
haps say  you  are  poor.  It  is  nothing.  I  will  make 
you  rich.  It  is  enough  for  me  that  she  loves  you, 
and  that  you  return  it." 

"  I  cannot  sufficiently  thank  you  for  your  kind- 
ness," said  the  Professor,  "  but  really  there  is  a — " 

"  If  you  are  not  noble,  the  King  will  cure  that. 
He  wants  such  brave  men  as  you  are  in  his  ser- 
vice," said  the  Prince. 

"  I  am  a  free-born  American  citizen,  and  the 
equal  of  any  man  on  earth,"  said  the  Professor 
proudly,  "  but  to  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  I  — " 

**  You  are  not  already  married  ? "  inquired  the 
Prince,  somewhat  suspiciously. 

"  I  have  been  married  ;  my  wife  is  dead,  and  —  " 

"Then,  of  course,  you  can  marry  Bragwaine. 
Sir  Colgrevance,"  said  the  Prince  to  one  of  his  at- 
tendants, "  ride  over  and  tell  the  abbot  that  Brag- 
waine will  wish  to  be  married  to-morrow  !  " 

"  To-morrow  !  "  shrieked  the  Professor.  "  I  really 
must  protest ;  you  are  much  too  sudden.  I  have 
an  important  mission  to  fulfil,  and  I  must  attend  to 
that  first,  and  at  once." 

Sir  Bleoberis  explained  to  the  Prince  the  nature 
of  their  errand,  and  told  him  the  Professor's  daugh- 
ter was  held  as  a  hostage  until  he  should  bring 
Ysolt  back  to  Baron  Bors. 


82  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND, 

"  We  will  delay  the  wedding,  then,"  said  the 
Prince.     "  And  now,  let  us  ride  homeward." 

If  it  had  not  been  for  the  heart-rending  manner 
in  which  everybody  regarded  him  as  the  future 
husband  of  Bragwaine,  and  for  the  extreme  tender- 
ness of  that  lady's  behavior  toward  him,  the  Profes- 
sor would  have  enjoyed  hugely  his  sojourn  at  the 
court.  King  Brandegore  regarded  him  from  the 
first  with  high  favor,  and  the  sovereign's  conduct 
of  course  sufficed  to  recommend  the  Professor  to 
everybody  else.  The  Professor  found  the  King  to 
be  a  man  of  rather  large  mind,  and  it  was  a  contin- 
ual source  of  pleasure  to  the  learned  man  to  un- 
fold to  the  King,  who  listened  with  amazement  and 
admiration,  the  wonders  of  modern  invention, 
science,  and  discovery. 

With  what  instruments  the  Professor's  ingenuity 
could  construct  from  the  rude  materials  at  hand; 
he  showed  a  number  of  experiments,  chiefly  electri- 
cal, which  so  affected  the  King  that  he  ordered  the 
regular  court  magician  to  be  executed  as  a  per- 
fectly hopeless  humbug ;  but  Professor  Baffin's 
energetic  protest  saved  the  unhappy  conjurer  from 
so  sad  a  fate. 

An  extemporized  telegraph  line,  a  few  hundred 
yards  in  length,  impressed  the  King  more  strongly 
than  any  other  thing,  and  not  only  did  he  make 
to  Sir  Bleoberis  and  the  Professor  exclusive  con- 
cessions of  the   right    to    build   lines    within    his 


THE    RESCUE.  8^ 

dominions,  but  he  promised  to  organize,  at  an  early- 
day,  a  raid  upon  a  neighboring  sovereign,  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  plunder  enough  to  give  to  the 
enterprise  a  handsome  subsidy. 

Sir  Dagonet  did  not  come  to  court  during  the 
Professor's  stay.  But  there,  in  full  view  of  the 
palace,  a  mile  away  in  the  lake,  was  his  castle,  and 
in  that  castle  was  the  lovely  Ysolt. 

The  Professor  examined  the  building  frequently 
through  his  field-glasses,  which,  by  the  way,  the 
King  regarded  with  unspeakable  admiration  ;  and 
more  than  once  he  thought  he  could  distinguish 
Ysolt  sitting  by  the  window  of  one  of  the  towers 
overlooking  the  lake. 

The  King  several  times  sent  to  Sir  Dagonet 
messages  commanding  Sir  Dagonet  to  bring  the 
damsel  to  him,  but  as  Sir  Dagonet  invariably  re- 
sponded by  trying  to  brain  the  messenger  or  to 
sink  his  boat,  the  King  was  forced  to  give  it  up  as 
a  hopeless  case.  Storming  the  castle  was  out  of 
the  question.  None  of  the  available  boats  were 
large  enough  to  carry  more  than  half  a  dozen  men, 
and  Sir  Dagonet  had  many  boats  of  great  size 
which  he  could  man,  so  as  to  assail  any  hostile  fleet 
before  it  came  beneath  the  castle  wall. 

But  the  Professor  had  a  plan  of  his  own,  which 
he  was  working  out  in  secret,  while  he  waited. 
Sir  Bleoberis  had  procured  several  skilful  armor- 
ers, and  under  the  direc«tions  of  the  Professor  they 


84  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

undertook  to  construct,  in  rather  a  crude  fashion, 
a  small  steam-engine.  This,  when  the  parts  were 
completed,  was  fitted  into  a  boat  with  a  propeller 
screw,  and  when  the  craft  was  launched  upon  the 
lake,  the  Professor  was  delighted  to  find  that  it 
worked  very  nicely.  The  trial-trip  was  made  at 
night,  so  that  the  secret  of  the  existence  of  such  a 
vessel  might  be  kept  from  any  of  the  friends  of 
Sir  Dagonet  who  might  be  loitering  about. 

It  devolved  upon  Sir  Bleoberis,  by  bribing  a 
servant  of  Sir  Dagonet's  who  came  ashore,  to  send 
a  message  to  Ysolt.  She  was  ordered  to  .watch  at 
a  given  hour  upon  a  certain  night  for  a  signal 
which  should  be  given  from  a  boat,  beneath  her 
window,  and  then  to  leap  fearlessly  into  the  water. 

The  night  chosen  was  to  be  the  eve  of  the  Pro- 
fessor's wedding-day.  The  more  Prince  Sagramor 
saw  of  Professor  Baf^n  and  his  feats,  the  more 
strongly  did  he  admire  him  ;  and  in  order  to  make 
provision  against  any  accident  which  should  de- 
prive his  daughter  of  marriage  with  so  remarkable 
a  man,  the  Prince  commanded  the  wedding-day  to 
be  fixed  positively,  despite  the  remonstrances 
which  the  Professor  offered  somewhat  timidly,  in 
view  of  the  extreme  delicacy  of  the  matter. 

Upon  the  night  in  question,  the  Professor,  at  the 
request  of  the  King,  who  was  very  curious  to^have 
an  opportunity  to  learn  from  practical  experience 
the  nature  of  the  thing  which  the  Professor  called 


THE    RESCUE.  85 

"a.  lecture,"  undertook  to  deliver  in  the  dining- 
room  of  the  palace  the  lecture  upon  Sociology, 
which  he  had  prepared  for  his  course  in  Eng- 
land. 

The  room  was  packed,  and  the  interest  and  curi- 
osity at  first  manifested  were  intense  ;  but  the 
Professor  spoke  for  an  hour  and  three-quarters, 
losing  his  place  several  times  because  of  the 
wretched  character  of  the  lights,  and  when  he  had 
concluded,  he  was  surprised  to  discover  that  his 
entire  audience  was  sound  asleep. 

At  first  he  felt  rather  annoyed,  but  in  an  instant 
he  perceived  that  chance  had  arranged  matters  in 
an  extremely  favorable  manner. 

It  was  within  precisely  half  an  hour  of  the  time 
when  he  was  to  be  in  the  boat  under  the  window 
of  Ysolt. 

Stepping  softly  from  the  platform,  he  went  upon 
tiptoe  from  the  room.  Not  a  sleeper  awoke. 
Hurrying  from  the  palace  to  the  shore,  he  found 
Sir  Bleoberis  sitting  in  the  boat,  and  awaiting  him 
with  impatience. 

The  Professor  entered  the  craft,  and  applying  a 
lighted  match  to  the  wood  beneath  the  boiler,  he 
pushed  the  boat  away  from  the  shore,  and  waited 
until  he  could  get  steam  enough  to  move  with. 

A  few  moments  sufficed  for  this,  and  then,  open- 
ing the  throttle-valve  gently,  the  tiny  steamer 
sailed  swiftly  over  the  bosom  of  the  lake,  through 


86  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

the  intense  darkness,  until  the  wall  of  the  castle, 
dark  and  gloomy,  loomed  up  directly  ahead. 

A  liglit  was  faintly  burning  in  Ysolt's  chamber 
in  the  tower,  and  the  casement  was  open. 

As  the  prow  of  the  boat  lightly  touched  the  stones 
of  the  wall  and  rested,  Sir  Bleoberis  softly  whistled, 

"I  have  always  been  uncertain,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor to  himself,  "if  the  ancients  knew  how  to 
whistle.  This  seems  to  indicate  that  they  did 
know  how.  It  is  extremely  interesting.  I  must 
remember  to  tell  Tilly  to  note  it  in  her  journal." 

In  response  to  the  signal,  a  head  appeared  at  the 
casement,  and  a  soft,  sweet  voice  said : 

"Is  that  you,  darling  .-' " 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  I,"  replied  Sir  Bleoberis.  "  Oh, 
my  love  !  my  Ysolt  I  "  he  exclaimed,  in  an  ecstasy. 

"  Is  Sir  BafBn  there,  too  .-'  " 

"  Yes.  We  are  both  here  ;  and  we  have  a  swift 
boat.  Come  to  me  at  once,  dear  love,  that  we  may 
fly  with  you  homeward." 

"  I  am  not  quite  ready,  love,"  replied  Ysolt. 
"  Will  not  you  wait  for  a  moment  .-•  " 

"  It  is  important,"  said  the  Professor,  "  that  we 
should  act  quickly." 

"But  I  must  fix  up  my  hair,"  returned  Ysolt. 
"  I  will  hurry  as  much  as  I  can." 

"  Women,"  said  the  Professor  to  his  companion, 
"are  all  alike.  She  would  rather  remain  in  prison 
for  life  than  come  out  with  her  hair  mussed." 


THE    RESCUE.  8/ 

The  occupants  of  the  boat  waited  very  impa- 
tiently for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes.  Then  Ysolt, 
coming  again  to  the  window,  said  : 

"  Are  you  there,  dearest  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Sir  Bleoberis,  eagerly.  "  We  are 
all  ready." 

"  And  there's  no  time  to  lose,"  added  Professor 
Baffin. 

"  Is  your  hair  fixed  ? "  asked  the  Knight. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Ysolt. 

"  Then  come  right  down." 

"Would  ten  minutes  more  make  any  differ- 
ence ? "  asked  Ysolt. 

"  It  might  ruin  us,"  replied  the  Professor. 

"  We  can  wait  no  longer,  darling,"  said  Sir  Ble- 
oberis, firmly. 

"  Then  you  will  have  to  go  without  me,"  said 
Ysolt,  with  a  tinge  of  bitterness.  "  It  is  simply 
impossible  for  me  to  come  till  I  get  my  bundle 
packed." 

"We  will  wait,  then,"  returned  Sir  Bleoberis, 
gloomily.  Then  he  said  to  the  Professor :  "  She 
had  no  bundle  with  her  when  she  was  captured." 

The  Professor,  in  silent  desperation,  banked  his 
fires,  threw  open  the  furnace-door,  and  began  to 
wonder  what  kind  of  chance  he  would  have  in  the 
event  of  a  boiler  explosion.  Blowing  off  steam, 
under  the  existing  circumstances,  was  simply  out 
of  the  question. 


88  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

After  a  delay  of  considerable  duration,  Ysolt's 
voice  was  heard  again  : 

"  Dearest ! " 

"  What,  love  ? "  asked  Sir  Bleoberis. 

"  I  am  all  ready  now,"  said  Ysolt. 

"  So  are  we." 

"  How  must  I  get  down  ?  " 

"  Climb  through  the  window  and  jump.  You 
will  fall  into  the  water,  but  I  shall  catch  you  and 
place  you  in  the  boat," 

"  But  I  shall  get  horridly  wet  !  " 

"  Of  course ;  but,  darling,  that  can  make  no 
great  difference,  so  that  you  escape." 

"  And  spoil  my  clothes,  too  !  " 

"Yes,  Ysolt,  I  know;  but  —  " 

"  I  cannot  do  it ;  I  am  afraid."  And  Ysolt  be- 
gan to  cry. 

Wild  despair  filled  the  heart  of  Sir  Bleoberis, 

"  I  have  a  rope  here,"  said  the  Professor ;  "  but 
how  are  we  to  get  it  up  to  her  ? " 

"  Ysolt,"  said  Bleoberis,  "  if  I  throw  you  the  end 
of  a  rope,  do  you  think  you  can  catch  it  .-• " 

"  I  will  try." 

Sir  Bleoberis  threw  it.  He  threw  it  again.  He 
threw  it  thirteen  times,  and  then  Ysolt  contrived 
to  catch  it. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  it  now  .-' "  she  asked. 

"  Tie  it  fast  to  something  ;  to  the  bed,  or  any- 
thing," replied  the  Knight. 


THE    RESCUE.  89 

"  Now  what  shall  I  do  ? "  asked  the  maiden, 
when  she  had  made  the  rope  secure. 

"  Slide  right  down  into  the  boat,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

"  It  would  ruin  my  hands,"  said  Ysolt,  mourn- 
fully. 

"  Make  the  attempt,  and  hold  on  tightly,"  said 
Sir  Bleoberis. 

"We  shall  be  caught  if  we  stay  here  much 
longer,"  observed  the  Professor,  with  anxious 
thoughts  of  the  boiler. 

"  Good-bye  then  !  I  am  lost."  Go  without  me  ! 
Save  yourselves  !  Oh,  this  is  terrible  !  "  Ysolt  be- 
gan again  to  cry. 

"  I  will  help  her,"  said  Sir  Bleoberis,  seizing  the 
rope  and  clambering  up  the  wall  until  he  reached 
the  window. 

Day  began  to  dawn  as  he  disappeared  in  the 
room.  The  Professor  started  his  fire  afresh  and 
shut  the  furnace-door.  Sir  Bleoberis,  he  knew, 
would  bring  down  Ysolt  without  delay. 

A  moment  later,  the  Knight  seated  himself  upon 
the  stone  sill  of  the  window  and  caught  the  rope 
with  his  feet  and  one  of  his  hands.  Then  he  placed 
his  arm  about  Ysolt,  lifted  her  out  and  began  to 
descend. 

Professor  Baffin,  even  in  his  condition  of  intense 
anxiety,  could  not  fail  to  admire  the  splendid  physi- 
cal strength  of  the  Knight.     When  the  pair  were 


90  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

about  half-way  down,  the  rope  broke,  and  Ysolt  and 
Sir  Bleoberis  were  plunged  into  the  lake. 

The  Professor,  excited  as  he  was  by  the  acci- 
dent, remembered  the  boiler,  and  determined  that 
he  would  have  to  blow  off  steam  and  take  the  con- 
sequences ;  so  he  threw  open  the  valve,  and  in- 
stantly the  castle  walls  sent  the  fierce  sound  out 
over  the  waters. 

Sir  Bleoberis,  with  Ysolt  upon  his  arm,  managed 
to  swim  to  the  side  of  the  boat,  and  the  Professor 
after  a  severe  effort  lifted  her  in.  Then  he  gave 
his  hand  to  the  Knight,  and  as  Sir  Bleoberis's  foot 
touched  the  side  the  Professor  shut  off  steam, 
opened  his  throttle-valve,  backed  the  boat  away 
from  the  wall,  and  started  for  the  shore. 

It  was  now  daylight.  As  the  boat  turned  the 
corner  of  the  wall,  it  almost  came  into  collision 
v^ith  a  boat  in  which,  with  ten  oarsmen,  sat  Sir 
Dagonet.  The  inmates  of  the  castle  had  been 
alarmed  by  the  performances  of  the  Professor's 
escape-pipe ;  and  Sir  Dagonet  had  come  out  to 
ascertain  the  cause  of  the  extraordinary  noise. 

The  Professor's  presence  of  mind  v/as  perfect. 
Turning  his  boat  quickly  to  the  right,  he  gave  the 
engine  a  full  head  of  steam  and  shot  away  before 
Sir  Dagonet's  boat  could  stop  its  headway. 

Sir  Dagonet  had  perceived  Ysolt,  and  recognized 
Sir  Bleoberis.  White  with  rage  he  screamed  to 
them  to  stop,  and  he  hurled  at  them  terrible  threats 


THE    RESCUE.  9 1 

of  vengeance  if  he  should  overtake  them.  As  no 
heed  was  given  to  him  he  urged  his  rowers  to  put 
forth  their  mightiest  efforts,  and  soon  his  boat  was 
in  hot  pursuit  of  that  in  which  the  maiden,  the 
Knight,  and  the  Professor  fled  away  from  him. 

By  some  means  the  people  of  the  town  of  Callion 
had  had  their  attention  drawn  to  the  proceedings  at 
the  castle,  and  now  the  shore  was  lined  with  specta- 
tors who  watched  with  eager  interest  the  race  be- 
tween Sir  Dagonet's  boat  and  the  wonderful  craft 
.which  had  neither  oars  nor  sails,  and  which  sent  a 
long  streamer  of  smoke  from  out  its  chimney. 

Professor  Baffin,  positively  determined  not  to 
wed  the  daughter  of  Prince  Sagramor,  had  prepared 
a  stratagem.  He  had  sent  three  horses  to  the  side 
of  the  lake  opposite  to  the  town,  and  three  or  four 
miles  distant  from  it,  with  the  intention  of  landing 
there,  and  hurrying  with  Ysolt  and  Sir  Bleoberis  to 
the  home  of  Baron  Bors,  without  the  knowledge  of 
the  Prince. 

The  daylight  interfered,  to  some  extent,  with  the 
promise  of  the  plan,  but  Professor  Baffin  resolved 
to  carry  it  out  at  any  rate,  taking  what  he  considered 
to  be  the  tolerably  good  chances  of  success.  He 
turned  the  prow  of  his  boat  directly  toward  the 
town,  making  as  if  he  would  go  thither.  The  pur- 
suers followed  fast,  and  as  the  Professor  perceived 
that  he  could  easily  outstrip  them,  he  slowed  his 
engine  somewhat,  permitting  Sir  Dagonet  to  gain 
upon  him. 


92  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

When  he  was  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the 
shore,  close  enough  indeed,  for  him  to  perceive 
that  the  King,  Prince  Sagramor,  Bragwaine,  and 
all  the  attendants  of  the  court  were  among  those 
who  watched  the  race  with  excited  interest,  the 
Professor  suddenly  turned  his  boat  half  around,  and 
putting  the  engine  at  its  highest  speed,  ploughed 
swiftly  toward  the  opposite  shore. 

A  mighty  shout  went  up  from  the  onlookers. 
Manifestly  the  fugitives  had  the  sympathy  of  the 
crowd. 

The  oarsmen  of  Sir  Dagonet  worked  right  val- 
iantly to  win  the  chase,  but  the  steamer  gained  con- 
stantly upon  them ;  and  when  her  keel  grated  upon 
the  sand,  close  by  where  the  horses  stood,  the 
pursuers  were  at  least  a  third  of  a  mile  behind. 

Sir  Bleoberis  sprang  from  the  boat,  and  helped 
Ysolt  to  alight.  The  Professor  stopped  to  make 
the  fire  in  the  furnace  more  brisk,  and  to  tie  down 
the  safety  valve  ;  then  hurrying  after  Sir  Bleoberis 
and  Ysolt,  the  three  mounted  their  horses  and 
galloped  away. 

In  a  few  moments  they  reached  the  top  of  a  hill 
which  commanded  a  view  of  the  lake.  They  stopped 
and  looked  back.  Sir  Dagonet  had  just  touched 
the  shore,  but,  as  he  had  no  horse,  further  pursuit 
was  useless.  So,  shaking  his  fist  at  the  distant 
party,  he  turned  away  with  an  affectation  of  con- 
tempt, and  entered  the  Professor's  boat  to  satisfy 
his  curiosity  respecting  it. 


THE    RESCUE.  93 

"  Let  him  be  careful  how  he  meddles  with  that," 
said  the  Professor. 

As  he  spoke,  the  boat  was  torn  to  fragments. 
Sir  Dagonet  and  two  of  his  men  were  seen  to  fall, 
and  a  second  afterwards  the  dull,  heavy  detonation 
of  an  explosion  reached  the  ears  of  the  Professor 
and  his  friends. 

"  It  is  dreadful,"  said  the  Professor  with  a  sigh, 
"but  self-preservation  is  the  first  law  of  nature, 
and  then  he  had  no  right  to  run  away  with  Ysolt, 
at  any  rate." 


94  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOW  THE  PROFESSOR  WENT  HOME. 

HE  three  friends  turned  their  horses'  heads 
away  from  the  lake,  and  pressed  swiftly 
along  the  road. 

"  It  is  necessary,"  said  Professor  Baffin,  "  that 
we  should  make  good  speed,  for  Prince  Sagramor 
saw  us  come  to  this  side  of  the  lake,  and  if  he  shall 
suspect  our  design  no  doubt  he  will  at  once  pursue 
us,  in  behalf  of  that  abominable  girl,  his  daughter." 

The  journey  was  made  in  silence  during  most  of 
the  time,  for  the  hard  riding  rendered  conversa- 
tion exceedingly  difficult,  but  whenever  the  party 
reached  the  crest  of  a  hill  which  commanded  a 
view  of  the  road  in  the  rear,  the  Professor  looked 
anxiously  behind  him  to  ascertain  if  anybody  was 
giving  chase.  When  within  a-  mile  or  two  of 
Lonazep,  he  did  at  last  perceive  what  appeared 
to  be  a  group  of  horsemen  at  some  distance  behind 
him,  and  although  he  felt  by  no  means  certain  that 
the  Prince  was  among  them,  he  nervously  urged 


HOW    THE    PROFESSOR    WENT    HOME.  95 

his  companions  forward,  spurring,  meantime,  his 
own  horse  furiously,  in  the  hope  that  he  might 
reach  the  castle  of  Baron  Bors  ere  he  should  be 
overtaken. 

As  the  party  came  within  sight  of  the  castle, 
they  could  hear  the  hoofs  of  the  horses  of  the  pur- 
suers, and  soon  their  ears  were  assailed  by  cries, 
demanding  that  they  should  stop.  It  was,  indeed, 
Prince  Sagramor  and  his  knights,  who  were  follow- 
ing fast.  The  Professor  galloped  more  furiously 
than  ever  when  he  ascertained  the  truth,  and  Sir 
Bleoberis  and  Ysolt  kept  pace  with  him. 

Just  as  they  reached  the  drawbridge,  however, 
they  were  overtaken  ;  and,  as  it  was  raised,  they 
were  compelled  to  stop  and  meet  the  Prince  face  to 
face.  The  Professor  hurriedly  called  to  the  warder 
to  lower  the  bridge,  so  that  Ysolt  could  take  refuge 
in  the  castle.  Then  he  turned,  and  determined  to 
make  the  best  of  the  situation.  The  Prince  was 
disposed  to  be  conciliatory. 

"  We  came,"  he  said,  "  to  escort  you  back  again. 
We  have  a  guard  of  honor  here  fitting  for  any 
bridegroom." 

"You  are  uncommonly  kind,"  replied  the  Pro- 
fessor, "  but  the  parade  is  rather  unnecessary.  I 
am  not  going  back  just  at  present." 

"  I  promised  Bragwaine  that  you  would  return 
with  us,"  said  the  Prince,  sternly. 

"  Well,  you  ought  not  to  make  rash  promises," 
replied  the  Professor,  with  firmness. 


96  THE    FORTUxVATE    ISLAND. 

"  You  will  go,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will  not  go." 

"  Bragwaine  is  waiting  for  you." 

"  That,"  said  the  Professor,  "  is  a  matter  of  jDcr- 
fect  indifference  to  me." 

"  I  will  not  be  trifled  with,  sir,"  said  the  Prince, 
angrily. 

"  Nor  will  I,"  exclaimed  the  Professor.  "  Let  us 
understand  one  another.  I  do  not  wish  to  marry 
any  one.  I  did  not  ask  your  daughter  to  marry 
me,  and  I  have  never  consented  to  the  union.  I 
tell  you  now  that  I  positively  and  absolutely  refuse 
to  be  forced  to  marry  her  or  any  other  woman.  I 
will  do  as  I  please  about  it ;  not  as  you  please." 

"  Seize  him,"  shrieked  the  Prince  to  his  attendgjats. 

"  Stand  off,"  said  the  Professor,  presenting  his 
revolver.  "  I'll  kill  the  man  who  approaches  me. 
I  shall  put  up  with  this  foolishness  no  longer," 

One  of  the  knights  rode  toward  him.  The  Pro- 
fessor fired,  and  the  cavalier's  horse  rolled  in  the 
dust.  The  Prince  and  his  people  were  stupefied 
with  astonishment. 

At  this  juncture,  Baron  Bors,  Sir  Dinadan,  Sir 
Agravaine,  Sir  Bleoberis,  and  Miss  Baffin  emerged 
from  the  castle.  Miss  Baffin  flew  to  her  father, 
and  flung  her  arms  about  him.  The  Professor 
kissed  her  tenderly,  and  as  he  did  so,  his  eye 
caught  sight  of  the  wire  of  the  telephone  which  he 
had   arranged   for   Ysolt   and    Sir   Bleoberis.      A 


HOW    THE    PROFESSOR    WENT    HOME.  9/ 

happy  thought  struck  him.  Advancing,  he  said  to 
the  Prince : 

"  It  is  useless  for  us  to  quarrel  over  this  matter. 
Baron  Bors  has  here  an  oracle.  Let  us  consult 
that." 

Then  the  Professor  whispered  something  to  Miss 
Baffin,  who  withdrew  unobserved  and  went  into 
the  castle. 

The  Prince  was  at  first  indisposed  to  conde- 
scend to  accept  the  offer,  but  his  curiosity  finally 
overcame  his  pride. 

"  Step  this  way,"  said  the  Professor.  "  Ask  your 
questions  through  this,"  handing  him  the  mouth- 
piece, "  and  put  this  to  your  ear  for  the  answer." 

"  What  shall  I  say  ?  "  inquired  the  Prince. 

"Ask  if  it  is  right  that  I  should  marry  your 
daughter." 

The  Prince  put  the  question,  and  the  answer 
came. 

"  What  does  the  oracle  say  ? "  asked  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

"It  says  you  shall  not,"  replied  the  Prince,  look- 
ing a  good  deal  scared. 

"  Are  you  satisfied  .■'  "  said  the  Professor. 

The  Prince  did  not  answer,  but  he  looked  as  if 
he  suspected  a  trick  of  some  kind,  and  would  like 
to  impale  Professor  Baffin  with  his  lance,  if  he 
dared. 

He  was  about  to  turn  away  in  disgust,  when  Sir 


98  THE    FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

Agravaine,  who  stood  beside  him,  in  a  few  half- 
whispered  words  explained  to  him  the  method  by 
which  the  Professor  had  imposed  upon  him. 

In  a  raging  fury,  the  Prince  rode  up  to  the  Pro- 
fessor, and  would  have  assailed  him;  but  Baron 
Bors  advanced  and  said : 

"  This  gentleman  is  unarmed,  and  unused  to  our 
methods  of  combat.  He  is  my  guest,  and  he  has 
saved  my  daughter.     I  will  fight  his  battles." 

The  Prince  threw  his  glove  at  the  Baron's  feet. 
Baron  Bors  called  for  his  armor  and  his  horse,  and 
when  he  was  ready  he  took  his  place  opposite  to 
his  antagonist,  and  waited  the  signal  for  the 
contest. 

"  This,"  said  the  Professor,  "  is  probably  the 
most  asinine  proceeding  upon  record.  Because  I 
won't  marry  Sagramor's  daughter,  Sagramor  is 
going  to  fight  with  a  man  who  never  saw  his 
daughter." 

The  combat  was  not  a  long  one.  At  the  first 
shock  both  knights  were  unhorsed ;  but,  drawing 
their  swords,  they  rushed  together  and  hacked  at 
each  other  until  the  sparks  fliew  in  showers  from 
their  armor. 

The  Baron  fought  well,  but  presently  the 
Prince's  sword  struck  his  shoulder  with  a  blow 
which  carried  the  blade  down  through  the  steel 
plate,  and  caused  the  blood  to  spurt  forth.  The 
Baron   fell    to   the   earth ;   and    Prince  Sagramor, 


AT  THE  F1K8T  Suu<  K  uoi  u  Kmuh.s  wkkk  Unhokskd.    Page! 


HOW  THE  PROFESSOR  WENT  HOME.      99 

remembering  the  small  number  of  his  attendants, 
and  the  probability  that  he  might  be  assailed  by 
the  Baron's  people,  mounted  his  horse  and  slowly 
trotted  away  without  deigning  to  look  at  Professor 
Baffin.  They  carried  the  Baron  tenderly  into  the 
castle,  and  put  him  to  bed.  The  wound  was  a  terrible 
one,  and  the  Professor  perceived  that  the  chances 
of  his  recovery,  under  the  rude  medical  treatment 
that  could  be  obtained,  were  not  very  favorable. 
After  doing  what  he  could  to  help  the  sufferer,  he 
withdrew  from  the  room,  and  left  the  Baron  with 
Lady  Bors  and  the  medical  practitioner  who  was 
ordinarily  employed  by  the  family. 

Miss  Baffin,  with  Sir  Dinadan,  awaited  her  father 
in  the  hall.  This  was  the  first  opportunity  he  had 
had  to  greet  her.  After  some  preliminary  conver- 
sation, and  after  the  Professor  had  expressed  to  Sir 
Dinadan  his  regret  that  the  Baron  should  have 
been  injured,  the  Professor  said : 

"And  now,  Tilly,  my  love,  how  have  you  been 
employing  yourself  during  my  absence  .-'" 

Miss  Baffin  blushed. 

"  Have  you  kept  the  journal  regularly  ? "  asked 
the  Professor. 

"  Not  so  very  regularly,"  replied  Miss  Baffin. 

"  I  have  a  number  of  interesting  and  extraor- 
dinary things  for  you  to  record,"  said  the  Professor. 
*'  Has  nothing  of  a  remarkable  character  happened 
here  during  my  absence  .-' " 


100         THE  FORTUNATE  ISLAND. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Miss  Baffin. 

"  I  have  learned  to  smoke,"  said  Sir  Dinadan. 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  Professor  with  a  slight  pang. 
"  And  how  many  cigars  have  you  smoked  }  " 

"  Only  one,"  replied  the  Knight.  "  It  made  me 
ill  for  two  days.  I  think,  perhaps,  I  shall  give  up 
smoking." 

"  I  would  advise  you  to.  It  is  a  bad  habit,"  said 
the  Professor,  "  and  expensive.  And  then,  you 
know,  cigars  are  so  dreadfully  scarce,  too." 

**  The  Lady  Tilly  was  very  kind  to  me  while  I 
was  ill.  I  believe  I  was  delirious  once  or  twice ; 
and  I  was  so  touched  by  her  sweet  patience  that  I 
again  proposed  to  her." 

"  While  you  were  delirious  .-' "  asked  the  Profes- 
sor. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  when  I  had  recovered." 

"  What  did  you  say  to  that,  Tilly  } "  asked  Pro- 
fessor Baffin. 

"  I  referred  him  to  you,"  replied  Miss  Baffin. 

"But  what  will  the  Baron  say.?"  asked  the 
Professor. 

"  He  and  my  mother  have  given  their  consent," 
said  Sir  Dinadan.  "They  declared  that  I  could 
not  have  pleased  them  better  than  by  making  such 
a  choice." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  Professor,  reflec- 
tively. "  I  like  you  first-rate,  and  if  I  felt  certain 
we  were  going  to  stay  here  — " 


HOW    THE    PROFESSOR    WENT    HOME.  Id 

"  I  will  go  with  you  if  you  leave  the  island,"  said 
Sir  Dinadan,  eagerly. 

"And  then  you  know,  Din,"  continued  the  Pro- 
fessor familiarly,  "Tilly  is  highly  educated,  while 
you  —  Well,  you  know  you  must  learn  to  read,  and 
write,  and  cipher,  the  very  first  thing." 

"  I  have  been  giving  him  lessons  while  you  were 
away,"  said  Miss  Baffin. 

"  How  does  he  get  along  .'' " 

"  Quite  well.  He  can  do  short  division  with  a 
little  help,  andijie  has  learned  as  far  as  the  eighth 
line  in  the  multiplication  table." 

"Eight  eights  are  sixty-four,  eight  nines  are 
seventy-two,  eight  tens  are  eighty,"  said  Sir  Din- 
adan, triumphantly. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Professor,  "  if  Tilly  loves  you, 
and  you  love  Tilly,  I  shall  make  no  objection." 

"Oh,  thank  you,"  exclaimed  both  of  the  lovers. 

"  But,  I  tell  you  what,  Din,  you  are  getting  a 
good  bargain.  There  is  no  finer  girl,  or  a  smarter 
one  either,  on  the  globe.  You  people  here  cannot 
half  appreciate  her." 

For  more  than  a  week.  Baron  -Bors  failed  to 
show  any  signs  of  improvement,  and  the  Professor 
thought  he  perceived  clearly  that  his  case  was  fast 
getting  beyond  hope.  He  deemed  it  prudent,  how- 
ever, to  keep  his  opinion  from  the  members  of 
the  Baron's  family.  But  the  Baron  himself  soon 
reached  the  same  conclusion,  and   one  day  Lady 


102         THE  FORTUNATE  ISLAND. 

Bors  came  out  of  his  room  to  summon  Sir  Dln- 
adan,  Ysolt,  Sir  Bleoberis,  who  was  now  formally 
betrothed  to  Ysolt,  and  the  Professor,  to  the 
Baron's  bedside. 

The  Baron  said  to  them,  in  a  feeble  voice,  that 
he  felt  his  end  approaching,  and  that  he  desired  to 
give  some  instructions,  and  to  say  farewell  to  his 
family.  Then  he  addressed  himself  first  to  Sir 
Dinadan,  and  next  to  Ysolt.  When  he  had  finished 
speaking  to  them  he  said  to  Lady  Bors, — 

"  And  now,  Ettard,  a  final  word  to  you.  I  am 
going  away,  and  you  will  need  another  friend, 
protector,  companion,  husband.  Have  you  ever 
thought  of  any  one  whom  you  should  like,  other 
than  me .'' " 

"  Never,  never,  never,"  said   Lady  Bors,  sobbing. 

"Let  me  advise  you,  then.  Who  would  be  more 
likely  to  fill  ray  place  in  your  heart  acceptably  than 
our  good  and  wise  and  wonderful  friend  Sir  Baf- 
fin.?" 

"  Good  gracious  !  "  exclaimed  the  Professor  with 
a  start. 

"  Your  son  is  to  marry  his  daughter  ;  and  she 
will  be  happy  to  be  here  with  him  in  the  castle. 
Promise  me  that  you  will  try  to  love  him." 

"  Yes,  I  will  try,"  said  Lady  Bors,  wiping  her 
eyes  and  seeming,  upon  the  whole,  rather  more 
cheerful. 

"  That,"   said  the  Baron,   "  does  not    altogether 


HOW    THE    PROFESSOR    WENT    HOME.  IO3 

satisfy  me.  I  place  upon  you  my  command  that 
you  shall  marry  him.     Will  you  consent  to  obey  ?  " 

"  I  will  consent  to  anything,  so  that  your  last 
hour  may  be  happier,"  said  Lady  Bors  with  an  air 
of  resignation.  She  was  supported  during  the 
trial,  perhaps,  by  the  reflection  that  in  dealing  with 
lumbago  Professor  Baffin  had  no  superior  in  the 
kingdom. 

Father  Anselm  was  announced.  "  Withdraw, 
now,"  said  the  Baron  to  all  of  his  family  but  Lady 
Bors.     "  I  must  speak  with  the  Hermit." 

Professor  Baffin  encountered  the  Hermit  at  the 
door.  The  holy  man  stopped  long  enough  to  say 
that  a  huge  ship  had  come  near  to  the  shore  upon 
which  the  Professor  had  landed,  and  that  it  was 
anchored  there.  From  its  mast.  Father  Anselm 
said,  fluttered  a  banner  of  red  and  white  stripes 
with  a  starry  field  of  blue. 

The  Professor's  heart  beat  fast.  For  a  moment 
he  could  hardly  control  his  emotion.  He  resolved 
to  go  at  once  to  the  shore  and  to  take  his  daughter 
with  him.  Withdrawing  her  from  her  companions 
the  two  strolled  slowly  out  from  the  castle  into  the 
park.  Then,  hastening  their  steps,  they  passed 
towards  the  shore.  In  a  few  moments  they 
reached  it,  and  there,  sure  enough,  they  saw  a 
barque  at  anchor,  while  from  her  mast-head  floated 
the  American  flag. 

A   boat   belonging  to  the  barque   had  come  to 


I04         THE  FORTUNATE  ISLAND. 

the  shore  to  obtain  water  from  the  stream.  Pro- 
fessor Baffin  entered  into  conversation  with  the 
officer  who  commanded  the  boat.  The  vessel 
proved  to  be  the  Mary  L.  Simpson,  of  Martha's 
Vineyard,  bound  from  the  Azores  to  New  York. 
When  the  Professor  had  explained  to  the  officer 
that  he  and  his  daughter  were  Americans,  the 
mate  invited  them  to  come  aboard  so  that  he  could, 
introduce  them  to  the  captain. 

"  Shall  we  go,  my  child  .-*  "  asked  the  Professor. 

"  If  we  can  return  in  a  very  few  moments,  we 
might  go,"  said  Miss  Baffin. 

They  entered  the  boat,  and  when  they  reached 
the  vessel,  they  were  warmly  greeted  by  Captain' 
Magruder. 

While  they  were  talking  with  him  in  his  cabin 
the  air  suddenly  darkened,  and  the  captain  rushed 
out  upon  deck.  Almost  before  he  reached  it  a 
terrific  gale  struck  the  barque,  and  she  began  to 
drag  her  anchors.  Fortunately  the  wind  blew  off 
shore,  and  the  captain,  weighing  anchor,  let  the 
barque  drive  right  out  to  sea.  The  Professor  was 
about  to  remark  to  Miss  Baffin  that  he  feared  there 
was  small  chance  of  his  ever  seeing  the  island 
again,  when  a  lurch  of  the  vessel  threw  him  over. 
His  head  struck  the  sharp  corner  of  the  captain's 
chest,  and  he  became  unconscious. 

When  Professor  Baffin  regained  his  senses,  he 
found  that  he  was  lying  in  a  berth  in  a  ship's  cabin. 
Some  one  was  sitting  beside  him,  — r 


HOW    THE    PROFESSOR    WENT    HOME.  IO5 

"  Is  that  you,  Tilly  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  faint  voice. 

"Yes,  pa;  I  am  glad  you  are  conscious  again. 
Can  I  give  you  anything  ^  " 

"  Have  I  been  long  unconscious,  Tilly  ? " 

"  You  have  been  very  ill  for  several  days ;  delir- 
ious sometimes." 

"  Is  the  captain  going  back  to  the  island  ? " 

"  Going  back  to  the  w/iat,  pa  .-* " 

"  To  the  Island.  It  must  have  seemed  dread- 
fully heartless  for  us  to  leave  the  castle  while  the 
Baron  was  dying." 

"  While  the  Baron  was  dying !  What  do  you 
mean  .-' " 

"  Why,  Baron  Bors  could  not  have  lived  much 
longer.  I  am  afraid  Sir  Dinadan  will  think  hard 
of  us." 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea  what  you  are  talking 
about.  Poor  pa !  your  mind  is  beginning  to  wan- 
der again.     Turn  over,  and  try  to  go  to  sleep." 

Professor  Baffin  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  said,  — 

"  Tilly,  do  you  mean  to  say  you  never  heard  of 
Baron  Bors .? " 

"  Never." 

"  And  that  you  were  never  engaged  to  Sir  Din- 
adan .? " 

"  Pa,  how  absurd  !     Who  are  these  people  .-•  " 

"  Were  you  not  upon  the  island  with  me,  at  the 
castle  ? " 


I06  THE   FORTUNATE    ISLAND. 

"  How  could  we  have  gone  upon  an  island,  pa, 
when  we  were  taken  from  the  raft  by  the  ship  ? " 

"  Tilly,  my  child,  when  I  get  perfectly  well  I 
shall  have  to  tell  you  of  the  most  extraordinary 
series  of  circumstances  that  has  come  under  my 
observation  during  the  whole  course  of  my  ex- 
istence !  " 

Then  Professor  Baffin  closed  his  eyes  and  fell 
into  a  doze,  and  Miss  Baffin  went  up  to  tell  the 
surgeon  of  the  ship  Unditte,  from  Philadelphia  to 
Glasgow,  that  her  father  seemed  to  be  getting 
better. 


THE  CITY  OF  BURLESQUE: 

^n  Account  of  some  of  tfje  Unfjaljitants  Cljcreof. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE     COWDRICKS.  A    CONJUGAL     CHAT.  —  LEONIE. 

A     RISING    ARTIST. A     PROPOSAL. SWEET- 
HEARTS. 


i'CCUPYING  a  very  comfortable  position  in 
an  eas3'--chair,  Mr.  Cowdrick,  banker,  sat 
in  his  library  before  a  blazing  fire. 


The  Fate  that  arranges  coincidences,  and  pro- 
vides for  the  fitness  of  things,  could  not  have 
persuaded  Mr.  Cowdrick  to  choose  a  more  charac- 
teristic method  of  warming  himself;  for  it  was  a 
sham  fire.  Some  skilful  worker  in  clay  had  pro- 
duced a  counterfeit  presentment  of  a  heap  of  logs, 
with  the  bark,  the  bits  of  moss,  the  knots,  and  the 
drops  of  sap  exuding  from  the  ends,  all  admirably 
imitative  of  nature.  But  the  logs  were  hollow,  and 
a  hidden  pipe,  upon  occasion,  filled  them  with  gas, 
which,  as  it  escaped  through  imperceptible  holes, 
was  ignited,  to  burn  as  though  it  fed  upon  the 
inconsumable  logs. 

The  library  room  was  handsomely  decorated  in 
accordance  with  the  prevailing  modes.     Upon  the 

107 


I08  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

wall  were  fastened  porcelain  plates,  bearing  beauti- 
ful designs,  but  wholly  useless  for  the  purpose  for 
which  plates  were  originally  devised.  Mr.  Cow- 
drick  realized  that  as  a  mere  matter  of  reason  it 
would  be  as  sensible  to  put  a  fireplace  in  the  ceil- 
ing, or  to  cover  his  library  table  with  the  door-mat, 
as  to  adorn  his  wall  with  a  dinner-plate ;  but,  like 
some  of  the  rest  of  us  Mr.  Cowdrick  surrendered 
his  private  convictions  to  the  suggestions  of 
fashion. 

Upon  Mr,  Cowdrick's  shelves  and  mantels  were 
cups  and  saucers  of  curious  wares,  which  were  to 
be  looked  at  and  not  used  ;  and  in  his  cabinets 
were  jugs  and  bottles,  which  existed  that  they 
might  contribute  to  the  pleasure  of  the  eye  rather 
than  to  the  pleasure  of  the  palate.  The  book- 
cases, made  with  the  best  art  of  the  workman,  after 
the  most  approved  designs,  were  filled  with  richly- 
bound  volumes,  into  which  Mr,  Cowdrick  had 
never  cared  to  look  since  he  bought  them  by  the 
cubic  foot ;  and  which,  in  some  instances,  con- 
sidered themes  which  would  not  have  interested 
the  banker  in  the  slightest  degree,  even  if  he  had 
examined  them,  and  had  been  gifted  with  the  ca- 
pacity to  comprehend  them. 

Upon  the  mantel  ticked  a  clock,  so  fine  that  it 
had  to  be  kept  under  glass,  and  which  had  never 
been  known  to  indicate  the  time  correctly  during 
twenty-four  consecutive  hours.     The  chairs  and  the 


THE    COWDRICKS.  IO9 

sofas  were  made  of  material  so  costly  that  Mrs. 
Cowdrick  had  them  draped  continually  in  closely- 
fitting  brown-linen  covers,  so  that,  in  fact,  it  was 
somewhat  difficult  to  comprehend  why  the  expen- 
sive and  delicate  fabrics  beneath  should  have 
been  employed  at  all,  seeing  that  they  were  per- 
petually doomed  to  hide  their  loveliness. 

Mr.  Cowdrick  sat  looking  at  the  deceitful  fire  in 
front  of  him,  and  as  he  mused  he  smoked  an  ex- 
cellent cigar.  His  reverie  was  presently  disturbed 
by  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Cowdrick  to  the  room. 
Mrs.  Cowdrick  was  a  woman  in  middle  life,  of 
rounded  figure  and  pleasing  face  ;  and  she  was 
clad,  at  this  moment,  in  rich  and  tasteful  dress. 
She  held  in  her  hand  a  bit  of  canvas,  upon  which 
she  was  working,  in  worsted,  a  pattern  which  was 
intended  to  convey  to  the  observer  the  impression 
that  it  was  of  Japanese  origin ;  but  really  it  was  as 
great  a  sham  as  Mr.  Cowdrick's  fire. 

Mrs.  Cowdrick  drew  a  chair  near  to  that  of  her 
husband.  Her  first  act,  when  she  had  taken  her 
seat,  was  to  clap  her  hands  vigorously  together 
two  or  three  times,  in  ineffectual  efforts  to  catch 
and  to  crush  a  fluttering  moth-fly. 

This  is  a  form  of  exercise  that  is  very  dear  to  the 
female  heart,  but  rarely  is  it  productive  of  any 
practical  results.  Calculated  in  horse-powers,  it 
may  fairly  be  estimated  that  the  amount  of  force 
expended  annually  by  the  sex  upon  the  work  of 


no  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

annihilating  moth-flies  would  be  sufficient  to  raise 
one  pound  two  hundred  thousand  feet  high,  if 
any  one  cared  to  have  a  pound  at  such  an 
elevation  ;  while  it  is  probable  that  the  number  of 
moth-flies  actually  taken  upon  the  wing  within  the 
boundaries  of  civilization,  does  not  in  any  one  year 
exceed  a  few  hundreds. 

When  she  had  concluded  her  efforts,  without  at 
all  injuring  the  insect,  Mrs.  Cowdrick  resumed  her 
worsted  attempt  to  insult  Japanese  art,  and,  as  she 
did  so,  Mr.  Cowdrick,  turning  his  head  about 
lazily,  as  he  sent  a  whiff"  of  smoke  into  the  air,  said, — 

"  Annie,  dear,  where  is  Leonie  ?  " 

"  She  is  in  her  room,  I  think,"  replied  Mrs.  Cow- 
drick, pleasantly.  "  She  will  be  down  in  a  few 
moments." 

**  I  wish  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you  about  her, 
my  love,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick.  "  I  have  been  think- 
ing that  it  is  high  time  Leonie  had  found  a  hus- 
band.    Let  me  see  ;  how  old  is  she  now  ?  " 

"  In  her  twenty-ninth  year,  really,"  replied  Mrs. 
Cowdrick ;  "  but  then,  you  know,  she  does  not 
acknowledge  more  than  twenty-five  years  to  her 
friends.     Leonie  is  an  exceedingly  prudent  girl." 

"But,  of  course,"  remarked  Mr.  Cowdrick,  "she 
cannot  keep  that  up  forever.  As  she  grows  older 
she  will  have  to  allow  a  year  or  two,  every  now  and 
then  ;  and,  after  a  while,  you  know,  people  will 
begin  to  count  for  themselves." 


A   CONJUGAL    CHAT.  Ill 

"  I  have  urged  that  upon  her,"  said  Mrs.  Covv- 
drick,  "and  I  think  she  fully  realizes  it.  Her  hair 
is  becoming  thinner  every  week,  and  there  would 
be  no  hope  of  her  hiding  the  truth  if  the  fashion 
did  not  permit  her  easily  to  cover  the  bald  place 
upon  the  top  of  her  head." 

"  She  is  no  longer  the  young  girl  she  once  was," 
said  Mr.  Cowdrick  with  an  air  of  sadness  which 
seemed  to  indicate  his  disappointment  at  the  re- 
fusal of  Time  to  make  an  exception  in  the  case  of 
Leonie. 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Cowdrick ;  "she  is  beginning  to 
ascertain  that  she  has  nerves,  and  she  has  to  take 
iron  every  morning.  At  the  pic-nic  in  September 
,  she  tried  to  appear  as  girlish  as  she  could  ;  but  I 
noticed,  while  she  was  skipping  the  rope  with  those 
little  chits  of  Mrs.  Parker's,  that  she  would  catch 
her  breath  convulsively  every  time  she  went  up; 
and  you  know  she  was  in  bed  with  lumbago  for 
three  days  afterward." 

"  She  must  marry,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  with 
emphasis.  "  The  case  is  getting  desperate.  I  will 
speak  to  her  about  it  to-night.  I  wish  her,  before 
I  quit  home,  to  have  herself  engaged  to  some  one 
who  is  able  to  support  her  handsomely." 

"  How  soon  will  it  be  necessary  for  you  to  fly  ? " 
asked  Mrs.  Cowdrick. 

"  Before  the  end  of  next  week,  at  the  very  latest. 
Matters  are  fast  approaching  a  crisis  at  the  bank. 


112  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

We  might  have  pulled  through  after  the  failure  of 
Snell  and  Adam,  to  whom,  as  one  of  the  directors 
was  a  partner,  we  lent  a  large  sum  upon  bogus 
collateral ;  and  I  did  not  despair  even  when  Pin- 
yard,  Moon  and  Company,  with  whom  I  had  a 
silent  interest,  went  under  just  after  obtaining  that 
last  hundred  thousand  of  us  ;  but  I  heard  to-day 
that  J.  P,  Hunn  and  Co.  are  very  much  embar- 
rassed, and  as  we  have  hypothecated  some  good 
collaterals  deposited  with  us  by  our  best  custom- 
ers in  order  to  keep  Hunn  on  his  legs,  his  failure 
will  inevitably  result  in  the  exposure  of  the  whole 
business." 

"And  how  much,  dear,  is  the  bank  short .-' "  asked 
Mrs.  Cowdrick,  kindly. 

"A  full  million  and  a  quarter  at  the  lowest  esti- 
mate. We  can't  tell  exactly,  because  the  accounts 
have  been  so  much  falsified  to  hide  the  deficiency. 
But  the  capital  has  gone,  and  with  it  the  bulk  of 
the  money  belonging  to  the  depositors  ;  and  as  I 
say,  a  whole  lot  of  collateral  securities,  placed  in 
our  hands  by  some  of  the  best  men  in  town.  It's 
a  bad  business !  They  will  make  it  hot  for  us,  I 
am  afraid." 

"  But  then,  dear,  you  will  save  something  from 
the  wreck,  you  said  .-'  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  Pinyard  told  me  that  he  thought  he 
and  I  would  come  out  with  two  or  three  hundred 
thousand  apiece,  if  we  can  manage  the  creditors  of 


A    CONJUGAL    CHAT.  II3 

his  firm  so  that  they  will  take  twenty-five  per  cent, 
of  their  claims  in  settlement.  That,  however,  is 
only  a  possibility." 

"  If  the  crash  is  coming  so  soon,"  said  Mrs.  Cow- 
drick,  with  a  thoughtful  air,  "  there  are  some  little 
things  I  should  like  to  get  at  once." 

"  What  are  they  .?  " 

"Why,  you  know,  Henry,  I  want  a  sealskin 
sacque  for  this  winter,  and  I  had  thought  of  buying 
a  pair  of  plain  diamond  earrings.  Couldn't  I  get 
them,  say  to-morrow,  and  have  them  charged,  and 
then  let  the  dealers  just  come  in  with  the  rest  of 
your  creditors  when  you  arrange  a  settlement  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  love !  get  them  immediately,  of 
course.  It  is  your  last  chance.  I  have  not  yet 
gotten  into  such  a  position  that  I  cannot  provide 
comforts  for  my  family  !  Tell  Leonie  to  make  any 
little  purchases  she  may  need,  also.  I  might  as 
well  go  to  ruin  for  a  large  amount  as  for  a  small 
one.  A  few  hundreds  more  or  less  will  not  mat- 
ter." 

As  Mr.  Cowdrick  spoke,  Leonie  entered  the 
room.  She  was  elegantly  and  fashionably  dressed, 
and  her  face  was  wreathed  with  smiles.  She  ran 
up  to  her  father  as  a  child  might  have  done,  and 
with  a  girlish  laugh  kissed  him  ;  then,  drawing  a 
footstool  close  to  him,  she  sat  down  beside  him  and 
placed  her  arm  upon  his  knee.  Mr.  Cowdrick 
stroked  her  head  affectionately,  with  a  tenderness 


114  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

that  was  partly  induced  by  fondness  and  partly  by 
a  recollection  of  what  Mrs.  Cowdrick  had  said  of 
Leonie's  method  of  disguising  the  bare  place  upon 
her  crown. 

After  reflecting  for  a  moment  in  silence,  Mr. 
Cowdrick  said,  — 

"  I  want  to  ask  my  little  girl  if  she  has  lost  her 
heart  to  any  one  yet .-' " 

Leonie  blushed,  and  straightening  herself  up  she 
said  nervously,  but  with  traces  of  a  smile  about  her 
lips, — 

"  Lost  my  heart,  papa  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  my  dear  child,  that  it  is  high  time  you 
had  obtained  a  husband  and  settled  yourself  for 
life.  It  i's  important  you  should  marry  as  speedily 
as  possible." 

"  Oh,  papa !  "  said  Leonie,  hiding  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

"  To  speak  plainly,  darling,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick, 
"  your  poor  father's  affairs  are  in  such  a  condition 
that  a  judicious  matrimonial  alliance  is  almost  neces- 
sary to  your  future  happiness.  You  understand  me, 
of  course  ;  I  am  not  at  all  sure  of  my  financial  future." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Leonie. 

'*  Of  course  you  are,"  replied  Mr.  Cowdrick,  "  but 
being  sorry  is  not  enough.  I  should  bear  the  calam- 
ity, when  it  comes,  much  more  bravely  if  I  were 
assured  that  my  dear  child  had  a  good  and  affluent 
husband  to  console  her  amid  the  troubles  that  will 


LEONIE.  115 

befall  her  family.  Is  there  no  one  to  whom  you 
could  give  your  affection  if  you  tried  ?  If  you  tried 
right  hard,  just  to  please  your  poor  old  papa  ?  " 

Leonie  hesitated  before  answering,  and  then  she 
said,  — 

"  Yes,  papa,  there  is  ! " 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that !     Who  is  it,  darling  ?  " 

"  You  will  not  be  angry  with  me,  papa,  if  I  tell 
you,  will  you  ?  I  have  given  my  love  to  some 
one,  and  that  some  one  is  —  is  —  Mr.  Weems,  the 
artist ! " 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Cowdrick,  in  a  voice 
that  indicated  mingled  surprise  and  indignation. 
"  Not  Julius  Weems,  the  painter  ? " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  are  actually  en- 
gaged to  be  married  to  that  young  man  ? "  said 
Mrs.  Cowdrick,  vehemently. 

"  Yes,  I  am  engaged  to  him,"  said  Leonie,  putting 
her  forehead  down  upon  the  arm  of  her  father's 
chair.  "  He  proposed  to  me  on  Tuesday,  while 
you  were  at  the  opera," 

"  And  you  love  him  ? "  asked  Mr.  Cowdrick. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  Leonie,  "  I  love  him  ;  of  course 
I  love  him,  or  I  never  would  have  accepted  him. 
But  I  don't  mean  to  say,  positively  and  finally,  that 
I  would  refuse  a  better  chance  if  it  presented  itself. 
Julius  is  the  only  person  who  seems  likely  to  want 
me,  and  certainly  he  is  a  great  deal  better  than  no- 
body." 


Il6  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

"  Yes  ;  but,  my  dear  child,"  observed  Mr.  Cow- 
drick,  "a  mere  husband  is  nothing.  The  circum- 
stances of  the  husband  are  everything." 

"  And  Mr.  Weems  is  poor  as  poverty,"  added 
Mrs.  Cowdrick. 

"  Oh,  no,  mamma,  you  are  mistaken,"  said 
Leonie.  "Julius  is  in  very  comfortable  circum- 
stances.    He  has  a  very  profitable  business." 

"  He  has,  has  he  .?  "  said  Mr.  Cowdrick.  "  Well, 
I  can't  imagine  where  it  can  be,  I  never  have 
seen  any  of  his  pictures." 

"  Why,  papa,"  rejoined  Leonie  with  a  slight 
laugh.  "Julius  says  that  you  have  two  of  his 
best  works  in  your  gallery." 

"  I  have,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Cowdrick,  in  astonish- 
ment.    "  I  think  not." 

"  He  says  so,  at  any  rate." 

"  Which  are  they  .? " 

"  Why,  the  '  Leader  and  the  Swan,'  by  Correggio, 
and  the  *  St.  Lawrence,'  by  Titian." 

"  Leonie,  that  is  ridiculous,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick, 
warmly. 

"  Perfectly  absurd,"  remarked  Mrs.  Cowdrick. 

"  But  Julius  declares  he  really  did  paint  them. 
He  says  he  paints  nothing  but  'old  masters ' ;  that 
they  bring  the  best  prices,  and  that  there  is  always 
an  active  demand  for  them.  He  wants  me  to 
come  to  his  studio  to  see  a  splendid  Murillo  he 
has  just  finished.     He  is  making  money  rapidly." 


LEONIE.  1 1  7 

"  In  that  case,  Leonie,"  said  Mr.  Covvdrick,  with 
a  slight  touch  of  bitterness,  as  he  thought  of  the 
prices  he  had  paid  for  his  Correggio  and  his  Titian, 
but  with  a  certain  cheerfulness,  gained  from  his 
suddenly  formed  resolution  to  realize  on  them  to- 
morrow — "  in  that  case,  we  must  regard  Mr. 
Weems  differently.  He  appears  at  least  to  be  an 
enterprising  young  man,  and  possibly  he  may  do 
well." 

"You  had  better  arrange  to  see  him  at  once, 
dear,"  said  Mrs.  Cowdrick,  "  so  that  you  can  ascer- 
tain what  his  income  is,  and  how  soon  the  wedding 
can  be  arranged." 

"  I  will  do  so,"  replied  Mr.  Cowdrick.  "  But  my 
child,  did  you  tell  him  anything  ?  Does  he  know 
that  you  have  already  been  engaged  three  times  ? 
Does  he  know  that  you  were  affianced  to  old  Mr. 
Baxter,  who  gained  your  affection  under  the  pre- 
tence that  he  was  a  millionaire,  only  to  tread  upon 
the  holiest  of  your  emotions  with  the  scandalous 
revelation  that  he  was  living  upon  a  paltry  pen- 
sion } " 

"  No,  papa,  I  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
disturb  Julius  with  such  matters  as  that.  What 
does  he  care  for  my  past  .-*  No  more  than  I  care 
for  his !  " 

"  Do  you  think  he  suspects  your  age,  dear } " 
asked  Mrs.  Cowdrick. 

"  I  am  certain  he  does  not.     You  know  I  falsi- 


Il8  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

fied  the  date  in  the  family  Bible,  and  last  evening  I 
got  him  to  look  over  it  with  me,  under  pretense  of 
searching  for  a  text.  When  I  showed  him  the 
record,  laughingly,  he  pretended  to  be  surprised. 
He  said  he  should  never  have  supposed  me  to  be  a 
day  over  twenty-three." 

Mr.  Cowdrick  slowly  winked  that  one  of  his  eyes 
which  was  upon  the  side  towards  his  wife,  and  then 
he  said, — 

"  Well,  Leonie,  we  will  see  about  it.  There  are 
some  things  about  the  match  to  recommend  it, 
although  I  cannot  say  Weems  is  precisely  the 
man  I  should  have  chosen  for  you.  However,  you 
are  the  person  who  is  most  deeply  interested,  and 
I  suppose  we  must  let  you  choose  for  yourself.  I 
wish  you  would  ask  Mr.  Weems  to  call  to  see  me 
to-morrow  evening  concerning  the  matter." 

"  He  will  be  here  to-night,  papa,"  replied  Leonie. 
"  He  said  he  would  call  to  make  a  formal  proposal 
for  my  hand." 

"  Very  well ;  that  will  do  nicely.  The  sooner 
we  reach  a  distinct  understanding,  the  better." 

Before  many  moments  had  elapsed,  Mr.  Julius 
Weems  was  announced  by  the  servant,  whereupon 
Mrs.  Cowdrick  and  Leonie  withdrew.  When  Mr. 
Weems  entered  the  room,  Mr.  Cowdrick  greeted 
him  politely,  but  with  dignified  gravity.  Mr. 
Weems  was  somewhat  nervous.  Mr,  Cowdrick 
clearly  perceived  that  he  had  reduced  himself  to  a 


LEONIE.  1 19 

condition  of  misery  with  a  resolution  to  obtain,  if 
possible  during  this  visit,  the  paternal  blessing  upon 
his  proposed  alliance  with  Leonie, 

The  current  theory  is  that  the  most  difficult  of 
the  processes  by  which  the  state  of  marriage  is  ap- 
proached, is  the  first  declaration  of  affection  to  the 
object  of  it ;  and  it  may  be  possible  that  most  men, 
upon  reviewing  their  conduct  upon  such  occasions, 
are  inclined  to  believe  that  they  made  fools  of 
themselves.  But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  nearly 
certain  that  those  who  make  a  careful  survey  of 
their  experiences  will  be  likely  to  admit  that  the 
most  trying  ordeal  through  which  the  lover  is  com- 
pelled to  go  is  that  of  ascertaining  whsPt  opinion  of 
the  matter  is  held  by  the  father  of  his  sweetheart. 
If  there  is  a  reasonable  certainty  that  the  loved  one 
will  accept  him,  he  is  at  least  sure  of  the  most  acute 
and  delicious  sympathy  when  he  summons  up 
courage  enough  to  take  her  little  hand  in  his  and 
to  give  voice  to  his  feelings  ;  and  the  difference  of 
sex  enables  the  performance  to  assume  the  most 
romantic  aspect.  But  to  face  a  cold,  practical  man 
of  the  world  with  a  lot  of  sentiment,  and  to  plunge 
boldly  into  an  explanation  to  Kim  of  a  fervid  passion 
which  he  regards  in  the  prosiest  fashion  possible, 
requires  bravery  of  a  very  high  order.  And  the 
man  who  can  approach  such  a  task  with  perfect 
self-possession,  and  positive  command  of  his  mental 
faculties  and  of  his  utterance,  has  a  nervous  system 
that  ordinary  men  may  envy. 


120  THE   CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

For  a  moment  after  Mr.  Weems  seated  himself 
upon  the  other  side  of  the  fire-place  from  Mr.  Cow- 
drick,  there  was  an  embarrassing  silence.  Then 
Mr.  Cowdrick,  to  open  the  way  for  his  visitor,  re- 
marked that  it  had  been  a  very  disagreeable  day. 

"  Very,"  said  Mr.  Weems.  "  Uncommonly  damp 
and  chilly,  even  for  this  time  of  year." 

"  Yesterday  was  far  from  pleasant  also,"  observed 
Mr.  Cowdrick. 

"  Wasn't  it  abominable  }  "  replied  Mr.  Weems. 
"  There  will  be  a  great  deal  of  sickness  if  this  kind 
of  weather  continues." 

**  The  prospect,"  rejoined  Mr.  Cowdrick,  "  is  that 
it  will.  There  are  no  signs  of  a  clear  day  to-mor- 
row." 

*•  I'm  afraid  not,"  returned  Mr.  Weems. 

Then  Mr,  Cowdrick  looked  into  the  fire,  and 
relapsed  into  silence.  The  weather  of  the  past, 
the  present,  and  the  future  having  been  considered, 
there  really  seemed  to  be  nothing  more  to  be  said 
upon  that  particular  topic.  It  would  be  curious  to 
ascertain  what  men,  who  are  in  a  stress  for  some- 
thing to  talk  about,  fall  back  upon  in  those  regions 
where  there  is  steadfast  sunshine  during  half  of 
every  year,  and  unremitting  rain  during  the  other 
half. 

"How  is  Miss  Leonie.''"  said  Mr.  Weems,  sud- 
denly, and  with  an  air  of  desperation. 

"  Quite  well,  thank  you,"  answered  Mr.  Cow- 
drick. 


A    PROPOSAL.  121 

"Well,  Mr.  Cowdrick,  I  called  this  evening  to 
speak  to  you  about  her,"  continued  Weems,  with  a 
determination  to  make  the  plunge  and  have  it  over. 

"Indeed!" 

"  Yes,  sir.  In  fact,  Mr.  Cowdrick,  your  daughter 
has  consented  to  become  my  wife,  and  I  wish  to 
obtain,  if  I  may,  your  approval  of  the  match.  May 
I  have  it  ?  " 

"  Really,  Mr.  Weems,  this  is  so  unexpected.  I 
was  so  little  prepared  for  such  an  announcement 

that  I  hardly  know  what .     My  answer  would 

depend  somewhat  upon  circumstances,  I  may  say, 
I  have  no  objection  to  you  personally ;  but  I  know 
nothing  of  your  prospects  in  your  profession." 

"  They  are  first-rate.  I  sold  a  picture  to-day  for 
five  thousand  dollars  ;  and  that  is  by  no  means  an 
infrequent  occurrence." 

"  Who  bought  it .?  " 

"  St.  Cadmus's  church.  It  is  an  altar  piece ; 
very  handsome  and  old  ;  by  Michael  Angelo.  You 
see,  I  give  you  my  secret ;  in  confidence,  of  course." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  "I  am  a  regular 
attendant  at  St.  Cadmus's  and  I  was  one  of  four 
subscribers  for  that  picture.  The  balance  of  the 
amount  we  made  up  by  mortgaging  the  organ. 
Mr.  Tunicle,  the  incumbent,  said  it  was  indisputably 
genuine." 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Mr.  Weems,  laughing  ;  "  if  it 
looks  like  a  genuine  one,  and  everybody  thinks  it  is 


122  THE   CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

genuine,  what  difference  is  there  ?  The  people  are 
every  bit  as  happy  as  if  it  were  real.  If  one  of  my 
pictures  sells  better  with  the  name  of  some  old 
chap  who  has  been  dead  for  two  or  three  centuries 
tagged  to  it,  why  shouldn't  I  let  it  go  in  that  way  ? 
It  does  not  hurt  him,  and  it  helps  me." 

"  From  your  point  of  view  the  theory  is  excel- 
lent ;  but  from  mine,  as  the  owner  of  a  couple  of 
old  masters,  it  looks  a  little  thin." 

"  Well,  to  be  fair,"  said  Mr.  Weems,  "  I  acknowl- 
edge that  I  painted  those  you  have,  but  I  am  will- 
ing to  find  you  a  market  for  them,  to  oblige  you ; 
or  I  will  sell  you  two  or  three  more,  if  you  prefer 
it.  I  have  just  run  off  a  fine  Salvator  Rosa,  and  a 
Titian,  as  kind  of  '  pot-boilers,'  and  you  can  have 
them  for  almost  nothing  if  you  want  them," 

"Thank  you,  no,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick.  "My 
interest  in  art  is  gradually  cooling  off.  And  then, 
besides,  if  you  are  going  to  turn  out  pictures  every 
time  you  want  a  suit  of  clothes,  or  a  box  of  cigars, 
it  seems  likely  there  will  soon  be  a  glut  of  old  mas- 
ters in  the  market." 

"  But  to  come  back  to  the  point,  Mr.  Cowdrick," 
said  Mr.  Weems.  "  What  may  I  accept  as  your 
decision  respecting  my  claim  to  your  daughter's 
hand .?  " 

"  Have  you  ever  had  an  affair  of  this  kind  be- 
fore, Mr.  Weems  .-•  Pardon  me  for  asking.  Is 
Leonie  your  first  love  •■' " 


A    PROPOSAL.  123 

"  Well,  you  know,  every  man  does  foolish  things 
in  his  youth.  I  have  been  involved  in  one  or  two 
trifling  matters  of  the  sort.  But  I  am  a  careful 
man,  and  to  avoid  any  unpleasant  demonstrations 
in  the  future,  I  have  procured  formal  decrees  of 
divorce  from  eleven  different  girls ;  all,  in  fact, 
with  whom  I  have  ever  had  any  acquaintance  that 
was  at  all  sentimental.  I  obtained  six  decrees 
from  the  State  of  Indiana,  at  a  cost  of  ten  dollars 
apiece,  and  the  remainder  from  Utah,  at  a  little 
higher  rate." 

"  And  you  were  never  married  to  any  of  the 
parties  .-*  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  merely  knew  them  ;  took  them  out 
driving,  or  danced  with  them  at  balls.  Some  of 
them  are  married  to  other  men.  But,  you  know,  a 
man  is  never  certain  what  may  happen ;  women 
are  so  queer  ;  and  so  I  concluded  to  destroy  all 
the  chances  of  anything  turning  up,  and  I  have 
the  legal  documents  to  show  for  it.  Leonie's  hap- 
piness is  perfectly  safe  with  me,  I  assure  you." 

"Your  course  seems  to  me  a  prudent  one,  at 
any  rate,"  remarked  Mr.  Cowdrick ;  "  but  then,  of 
course,  it  is  possible  for  a  man  to  be  a  little  too 
far-sighted  for  the  comfort  of  other  people.  How 
do  I  know,  for  instance,  that  you  haven't  taken 
the  precaution  to  file  away  among  your  papers  a 
divorce  from  Leonie  }  " 

"Oh,   well,"  said   Mr.  Weems,  laughing,  "you 


124  THE   CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

know  I  wouldn't  go  quite  that  far.  I  admit  that 
I  have  half  a  dozen  blank  decrees,  which  I  can 
fill  up  to  meet  emergencies,  but  I  pledge  you  my 
word  of  honor  that  I  will  never  put  her  name  in 
one.     I  love  her  too  dearly." 

"  Do  you  believe  you  would  love  her  if  she  were 
poor  ;  or  if  she  were  to  become  poor  ? " 

"  Yes,  certainly ;  of  course,"  answered  Mr. 
Weems.  And  then  he  added  mentally,  "  I  wonder 
if  anything  is  the  matter  .-•  I'll  inquire  about  the 
old  man's  financial  standing  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  "I  hardly  know. 
Leonie  is  very  dear  to  me.  I  have  not  contem- 
plated an  early  marriage  for  her.  It  would  be  a 
terrible  wrench  upon  my  heartstrings.  What 
would'you  do  if  I  refused  my  consent.-*" 

"  Try  to  submit  with  what  patience  I  could 
command,  I  suppose.  But  you  will  not  refuse,  will 
you  i 

Mr.  Cowdrick  did  not  respond  at  once.  He  had 
rather  cherished  the  hope  that  Weems  would  elope 
with  Leonie,  and  save  him  the  expense  of  a  wed- 
ding outfit  and  of  a  wedding  festival,  besides  re- 
lieving him  of  all  responsibility.  But  he  saw  now 
that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  take  the  chances. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Weems,"  he  ^id,  at  length,  "  so  far  as 
I  am  concerned,  I  think  I  may  say  that  if  Leonie 
wishes  to  marry  you,  she  can.     But  we  must  ask 


SWEETHEARTS.  1 25 

her  mother  about  it.     It  will  be  a  terrible  shock  to 
poor  Mrs.  Covvdrick,     I  will  call  her  in." 

When  Mrs.  Cowdrick  entered  the  room  with 
Leonie,  Mr.  Cowdrick  said,  — 

"  My  dear,  Mr.  Weems,  here,  has  formally  pro- 
posed for  the  hand  of  Leonie,  and  I  have  given  my 
consent,  provided  you  also  would  do  so." 

Mrs.  Cowdrick  replied  by  a  shriek,  after  which 
she  flung  herself  into  a  chair,  and,  with  an  expen- 
sive handkerchief  to  her  face,  she  sobbed  hysteric- 
ally. 

"  Ma  is  doing  that  to  show  how  well  she  can 
pose,"  said  Leonie,  in  a  whisper  to  Weems.  "  She 
used  to  be  splendid  in  private  theatricals." 

Mrs.  Cowdrick  sprang  up,  and  in  tones  of  appar- 
ently intense  excitement  she  said,  —  "  No,  no  !  I 
cannot  let  her  go  !  It  is  impossible  !  It  is  so  unex- 
pected, so  sudden  !  My  child,  my  poor,  darling 
child  !  To  be  torn  ruthlessly  from  the  arms  of  her 
dear  mother  !  I  cannot  bear  it !  It  will  kill  me  !  " 
and  Mrs.  Cowdrick  flung  her  arms  wildly  about 
Leonie  and  wept. 

Leonie  seemed  quite  calm.  She  lowered  her 
shoulder  slightly,  to  incline  her  mother's  head,  so 
that  her  tears  would  fall  upon  the  floor  instead  of 
upon  her  dress. 

Mr.  Cowdrick  comforted  her,  reasoned  with  her, 
and  showed  her  that,  after  all,  Leonie's  happiness 
was  at  stake.     To  promote  her  happiness,  her  par- 


126  THE    CITY    OF    RURLESQUK. 

ents  must  be  willing  to  make  some  sacrifices,  and 
she  must  try  to  brace  herself  to  meet  the  trial,  hard 
as  it  was.  Mrs.  Cowdrick's  agitation  gradually  de- 
creased, as  her  husband  spoke  ;  and  when  she  had 
rested  upon  the  sofa  for  a  moment,  and  helped  her 
nerves  by  inhaling  salts  from  a  gilded  smelling-bot- 
tle, she  said : 

"  If  it  must  be,  it  must !  Take  her,  Julius  !  Take 
her,  and  love  her,  and  cherish  her,  so  that  she  will 
never  rue  having  been  torn  from  the  parental 
nest ! " 

"  I  promise  you  faithfully  to  do  my  best,"  replied 
Mr.  Weems. 

"  And  now,  my  children,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  as 
his  voice  trembled  with  emotion,  "  I  give  you  an 
old  man's  blessing !  May  you  be  happy  in  each 
other's  love  until  life  shall  end  !" 

Then  Mr.  Cowdrick  wiped  his  eyes,  and  taking 
Mrs.  Cowdrick  on  his  arm,  they  went  upstairs  to 
discuss  some  method  by  which  the  marriage  could 
be  celebrated  before  the  crash  came  at  the  bank. 

"And  you  are  mine  at  last,  darling  !  "  said  Mr. 
Weems,  as  he  pushed  his  chair  up  close  to  Leo- 
nie's  and  took  her  hand  in  his. 

In  reply  she  nestled  her  head  up  against  his 
shoulder,  and  her  thoughts  went  out  dreamily  over 
the  past.  Old  Mr.  Baxter  and  her  two  other  lovers 
had  made  precisely  the  same  remark  to  her  under 
similar  circumstances,  and  she  had  responded   to 


SWEETHEARTS.  12/ 

them  in  the  same  manner.  Life  is  an  endless 
round  of  repetitions. 

"Sweet  face!"  said  Mr,  Weems,  patting  it  ten- 
derly, as  if  he  were  a  trifle  uncertain  of  the  perma- 
nent nature  of  the  color.  "  Did  you  know,  dar- 
ling, that  I  put  your  face  in  one  of  my  recent 
pictures .-' " 

"  Oh,  Julius  !     Did  you  } " 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  gave  it  to  my  full  length  of  St. 
Ethelberta,  by  Rubens." 

"  Is  it  a  good  likeness  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is.  But,"  said  Mr.  Weems  thought- 
fully, "  it  didn't  sell !  That  is,  I  mean,  no  person 
of  really  good  taste  has  inspected  it  yet." 

"  And  you  painted  it  because  you  loved  me,  did 
you  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !     Certainly  !     Of  course  ! " 

"  How  fortunate  it  was  that  I  could  return  your 
love,  wasn't  it .''  Julius,  what  would  you  have  done 
if  I  had  refused  you  .''  " 

"  Done  ?  Why,  it  would  have  mortified  me  dread- 
fully. I  don't  believe  I  should  have  had  any  ap- 
petite for  a  week  or  more." 

"  Some  disappointed  lovers,"  said  Leonie  almost 
reproachfully,  and  with  an  air  of  chagrin,  "  become 
utterly  desperate  and  try  to  take  their  own  lives." 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  replied  Mr.  Weems.  "  Dreadful, 
isn't  it }  But  I  generally  try  to  bear  up  under 
misery.     It's  a  duty." 


128  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

"  Could  you  bear  misery  for  my  sake,  Julius  ? 
Do  you  think  your  love  would  endure  if  poverty 
should  overtake  us?     Bitter,    blinding   poverty?" 

"  I  am  sure  I  could,"  replied  Mr.  Weems  with  a 
renewed  determination  to  discover  in  the  morning 
if  Mr.  Cowdrick's  credit  had  been  impaired. 

"  You  believe,  then,  that  love  in  a  cottage  is  a 
possibility,  do  you,  dear  ? "  asked  Leonie. 

"  Yes,  darling ;  possible,  but  not  fascinating. 
My  observation  is  that  love,  upon  the  whole,  has  a 
better  chance  in  a  commodious  mansion  with  all  of 
the  modern  conveniences ;  with  gas,  water  and  a 
boy  to  answer  the  front-door  bell.  Love,  darling,  is 
like  some  other  things  in  this  world  —  it  thrives 
better  when  it  is  comfortable." 

"  Have  you  thought  about  our  wedding,  dear  ?  " 
asked  Leonie.  "  Where  will  we  go  upon  our  wed- 
ding journey  ?  Wouldn't  it  be  splendid  to  take  a 
trip  to  Europe  ?  " 

The  suggestion  did  not  seem  to  excite  any  great 
amount  of  enthusiasm  in  the  heart  of  Mr.  Weems. 
He  said  :  "  It  would  be  very  nice,  but  I  am  afraid 
it  would  be  almost  too  expensive,  unless  your  pa  — 
Did  your  pa  say  anything  about  it  ?  "  asked  Julius, 
with  a  faint  expectation  that  Mr.  Cowdrick  Tiiay 
have  intended  to  include  a  handsome  cheque  among 
the  presents. 

"  No,"  replied  Leonie  ;  "  he  said  nothing,  Only 
I  thought  may-be  you  might  want  to  go." 


SWEETHEARTS.  1 29 

"  So  I  do,  my  love,  but  business  is  a  trifle  dull 
just  now.  I  am  afraid  we  shall  have  to  wait  until 
the  prevailing  prejudice  against  Rubens  and  St. 
Ethelberta  blows  over,  as  it  were.  I  thought  per- 
haps we  might  make  a  short  trip  to  Boston  and 
back.     How  would  that  suit  you  .''  " 

"  I  would  be  satisfied  with  it,  dear,  of  course," 
said  Leonie. 

Mr.  Weems  heard  her  answer  with  the  serene 
consciousness  that  he  had  a  free  pass  for  two  over 
that  particular  route,  and  that  even  upon  a  wed- 
ding journey  there  would  be  no  need  to  be  actually 
riotous  in  the  matter  of  hotel  expenses. 

"And  when  we  get  home,  and  settle  down,  may 
I  keep  a  parrot,  Julius  ?  " 

"Well,"  replied  Mr.  Weems,  "the  question  is 
sudden  and  somewhat  irrelevant,  but  I  should  think 
you  might ;  provided,  of  course,  you  selected  one 
that  has  not  been  taught  to  use  profane  language, 
and  to  imitate  a  screeching  wheelbarrow  with  too 
great  accuracy." 

"  You  are  so  kind  !     And,  Julius  ? " 

"  What,  sweet  ?  " 

"  If  papa  should  die,  could  dear  mamma  come  to 
live  with  us  }  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  Leonie,  suppose  we  postpone 
the  consideration  of  some  of  these  distressins:  con- 
tingencies  until  they  actually  present  themselves  ! 
I  am  perfectly  willing  to  wrestle  with  a  grief  when 


130  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE, 

it  comes,  but  there  is  no  use  of  putting  crape  on  a 
door-knocker  until  there  is  bereavement  in  the 
family  circle." 

"  That  is  true,  dear.     And,  Julius  .-•  " 

"  Well,  my  love  >  " 

"  Whenever  you  can't  come  to  see  me,  will  you 
write  to  me  ?  I  want  you  to  send  me,  at  least  once 
every  day,  a  dear,  kind,  affectionate  letter,  full  of 
love  ;  won't  you,  dear  } " 

"  I  will,  if  you  will  promise  faithfully  to  burn 
them,"  replied  Julius,  as  his  prudent  mind  grasped 
the  possibility  of  some  unfortunate  future  misunder- 
standing, in  which  ardent  love-letters  might  have  a 
damagin  geffect  upon  the  case  of  the  defendant. 
"  That  is,  pretty  nearly  every  day." 

"Thus  far,"  continued  Leonie,  "  I  have  kept  all 
that  you  have  written.  I  have  read  them  over,  and 
over,  and  over,  and  kissed  them  again  and  again. 
The  sweet  verses  you  have  sent  to  me  I  have 
learned  by  heart." 

"  Have  you,  darling  >  "  said  Mr.  Weems,  with  a 
feeling  of  pride  in  his  success  as  a  poet. 

"  Shall  I  repeat  them  to  you  .'' " 

"  If  you  will,  dearest,"  replied  Mr.  Weems,  with 
the  air  of  a  man  who  was  conscious  that  he  had 
turned  off  rather  a  good  thing  in  the  way  of  verses. 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Leonie,  leaning  back  in  her 
chair,  "  how  do  they  begin  ?     Oh,  yes  !" 


SWEETHEARTS.  1 3  I 

*  Sweetheart,  if  I  could  surely  choose 

The  aptest  word  in  passion's  speech, 
And  all  its  subtlest  meaning  use 

With  eloquence,  your  soul  to  teach, 
Still,  forced  by  its  intensity, 
Sweetheart,  my  love  would  voiceless  be. 

*  Sweetheart,  though  all  the  days  and  hours 

Sped  by,  with  love  in  sharpest  stress, 
To  find  some  reach  of  human  powers 

Its  faintest  impulse  to  express  ; 
Till  Time  merged  in  Eternity, 
Sweetheart,  my  love  would  voiceless  be.' 

Are  they  not  beautiful  ? "  asked  Leonie,  as  she 
concluded. 

"  Very  beautiful,"  responded  Mr.  Weems,  with  a 
faint  impression  that  it  might  perhaps  pay  him  to 
abandon  the  old  masters,  and  to  grasp  the  resound- 
ing lyre,  with  a  resolution  to  thrum  it  during  the 
remainder  of  his  life. 

" '  Sweetheart '  is  a  name  I  always  liked,"  said 
Leonie.  "  You  called  me  your  *  rosebud,'  in  your 
last  letter ;  but  somehow  it  did  not  please  me  so 
much  as  '  sweetheart ; '  it  was  not  so  natural." 

"  Twenty-five  years  is  old  for  a  rosebud,"  said 
Mr.  Weems,  absently. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Leonie  ;  "  and  does  it  not  seem 
odd,  Julius,  that  we  who  have  been  apart  so  long 
should  now  be  united  forever,  and  that  we  should 
go  down  the  current  of  time  together  until  the 
end  ?  " 


132  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

While  she  was  speaking,  the  elegant  clock,  from 
beneath  its  crystal  covering,  chimed  out  the  hour 
of  four,  and  the  artist,  consulting  his  watch,  dis- 
covered that  the  correct  time  was  precisely  ten 
minutes  past  eleven.  He  arose  from  his  seat,  and 
fondly  embracing  Leonie,  he  kissed  her,  and  bade 
her  good  night.  She  went  to  the  window,  and  as, 
by  the  light  of  the  street  lamp,  she  saw  him  de- 
scending the  steps  in  front  of  the  house,  she 
waved  her  hand  toward  him.  Then  turning,  she 
proceeded  to  the  hall,  and  up  the  stairs  to  bed, 
murmuring  to  herself,  — 

"  Burn  them  !     That  would  be  insane  ! " 


SAINT    CADMUS  S.  I33 


CHAPTER   II. 

SAINT    CADMUS'S.  —  CHURCH     MATTERS     OF     IMPOR- 
TANCE.  FATHER    KRUM    AND    FATHER   TUNICLE. 

A    RIOTOUS    SERVICE. 

R.  COWDRICK,  although  making  no 
profession  of  a  special  fondness  for  a  re- 
ligious life,  was  one  of  the  pillars  of  St. 
Cadmus's  Church.  He  had  been  elected  to  a  place 
in  the  vestry  ;  he  held  two  pews  ;  he  contributed 
upon  occasion  to  the  Church  fund  ;  and  Rev.  Mr. 
Tunicle,  who  was  "an  advanced  Ritualist,"  found 
in  Mr.  Cowdrick  an  ardent  supporter  whenever  he 
undertook  to  introduce  innovations  in  his  method 
of  conducting  the  services. 

It  did  not  seem  important  to  Mr.  Cowdrick  that 
Mr.  Tunicle  should  always  try  to  produce  from  the 
records  of  the  early  Church  his  authority  for  any 
new  and  surprising  practice  that  he  wished  to 
adopt.  If  the  thing  seemed  to  Mr.  Cowdrick  good 
in  itself,  if  it  pleased  his  eye,  and  gratified  what  he 
chose  to  consider  the  aesthetic  demands  of  his 
nature,  he  deemed  it  unnecessary  to  ask  any  more 


134  THE   CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

questions.  He  would  as  soon  have  thought  of 
inquiring,  before  he  bought  a  new  chair  for  his 
library,  or  a  new  set  of  plate  for  his  table,  whether 
his  grandfather  had  established  any  precedent  in 
the  matter  of  the  purchase  of  chairs  and  dishes,  as 
to  have  sought  in  ecclesiological  history  warrant 
for  the  embellishment  of  the  services  at  St.  Cad- 
mus's.  It  was  enough  that  the  worshipers  who 
had  the  most  money,  and  who  were  able  to  pay  for 
novelties,  wanted  them. 

Mr.  Tunicle,  or  Father  Tunicle,  as  his  most  en- 
thusiastic admirers  called  him,  was  a  frequent  visi- 
tor at  the  house  of  Mr.  Cowdrick.  Not  only  did 
he  find  there  a  great  deal  of  sympathy  with  his 
plans,  but  he  liked  the  society  of  Leonie,  and  he 
was  exceedingly  anxious  to  enlist  her  among  the 
active  workers  in  the  church. 

He  called  upon  Leonie  one  evening,  shortly 
after  her  betrothal  to  Mr.  Weems  ;  and  as  the 
artist  happened  to  be  out  of  town,  Father  Tunicle 
had  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  some  uninterrupted 
conversation  with  the  young  lady. 

"  I  noticed  last  Sunday,  Father  Tunicle,"  said 
Leonie,  after  some  preliminary  conversation,  "that 
you  did  not  use  the  velvet  sermon-cover  I  worked 
for  you.     I  hope  you  are  pleased  with  it .'' " 

•'  Oh  yes,  delighted  with  it.  But  then,  you 
know,  I  couldn't  use  it  last  Sunday.  The  color 
for  the  Third  Sunday  after  Epiphany  is  green,  and 


A    MATTER    OF    COLOR.  135 

the  sermon  cover  you  know,  is  violet  I  can  use 
it  on  Septuagesima  Sunday,  of  course.  We  can- 
not be  too  particular  about  these  things  in  a  world 
that  is  lying  in  wickedness." 

"  Oh,  excuse  me,"  said  Leonie.  "  I  had  gotten 
the  idea,  somehow,  that  violet  was  the  morning 
color  for  last  Sunday,  and  red  the  evening  color." 

"  You  are  thinking  of  Quinquagesima  Sunday, 
Miss  Cowdrick,"  said  Father  Tunicle,  smiling 
gravely.  "  The  color  changes  upon  that  day. 
You  must  study  more  carefully  the  little  almanac 
I  gave  you.  When  the  Church  provides  us  with 
good  books  which  may  guide  us  to  lives  of  earnest 
devotion,  it  is  our  duty  to  read  them  attentively." 

"  I  will  promise  to  do  better  in  the  future," 
said  Leonie,  meekly. 

"  I  ought  to  tell  you  also,"  continued  Father 
Tunicle,  "  that  I  could  not  use  the  Lavabo  you 
worked  for  me,  at  all." 

"  Indeed  !     Why  .?  " 

"  Why,  instead  of  making  it  of  plain  linen,  you 
made  it  of  damask,  and  you  embroidered  it  with 
silk  ;  whereas  everything  but  French  red  marking 
cotton  or  white  marking  cotton  is  expressly  pro- 
hibited by  the  rules.  Nothing  in  the  almanac  is 
stated  in  plainer  terms  than  this.  St.  Paul,  you 
know,  insisted  that  things  should  be  done  decently 
and  in  order,  and  we  are  bound  to  heed  his  injunc- 
tion." 


136  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

"Ah,  Father  Tunicle,  I  am  afraid  I  neglect  St. 
Paul  as  much  as  I  do  my  almanac.  Will  you  be- 
lieve I  really  didn't  know  that  he  says  anything 
about  plain  linen  and  French  red  marking  cotton  ? 
I  plead  guilty." 

"  No,  Miss  Cowdrick,  you  misunderstand  me.  I 
did  not  mean  to  indicate  that  the  apostle  is  the 
authority  for  these  things.  Unhappily  he  does 
not  allude  to  them.  Whether  he  ought  to  have 
done  so,  is  another  question.  Our  authority  for 
them  is  more  recent,  but  it  is  not  to  be  despised 
upon  that  account." 

"  Of  course  not." 

"  I  have  great  difficulty  in  impressing  the  im- 
portance of  these  things  upon  the  minds  of  some 
of  our  people.  Despite  my  repeated  injunctions, 
Mrs.  Battersby  brought  back  from  the  laundry  the 
altar-cloth  filled  with  starch,  and  in  the  midst  of 
my  distress  over  the  discovery  of  this  sacrilege,  I 
perceived  that  the  sexton  had  omitted  to  pin  the 
fringe  to  the  super-frontal.  If  we  are  to  be  made 
perfect  through  suffering,  I  feel  that  I  am  not  far 
from  perfection,  unless  these  distressing  occurrences 
shall  cease." 

"It  is  terrible,"  said  Leonie,  with  tender  sym- 
pathy in  her  voice. 

"  By  the  way.  Miss  Cowdrick,"  said  the  pastor, 
"  to  turn  to  pleasanter  themes.  Cannot  I  enlist 
your   more   active   interest  in  our  church   work  .' 


A    MATTER    OF    COLOR.  137 

Will  you  not  come   into  the   Sunday-school  as  a 
teacher  ? " 

"  I  am  not  competent  to  teach,  I  fear." 

"  We  can  give  you  a  class  of  girls  or  a  class  of 
boys,  as  you  prefer.  The  boys'  class,  which  is 
named,  *  Little  Lambs  of  the  Flock,'  is,  I  fear, 
somewhat  too  unruly  for  you.  Miss  Banner  gave 
it  up  because  the  scholars  would  persist  in  pinch- 
ing each  other  and  quarrelling  during  the  lesson. 
They  are  so  rough  and  boisterous  that  I  think  it 
will  be  better  to  get  a  male  teacher  to  manage 
them.  But  you  could  take  the  girls'  class,  '  The 
Zealous  Workers,'  and  perhaps  persuade  the  pupils 
to  surrender  their  present  indifference  to  every- 
thing that  is  being  done  in  either  the  Sunday- 
school  or  the  church." 

"  I  will  consider  the  matter,  and  let  you  have 
my  answer  as  speedily  as  possible,"  replied  Leonie. 

"Do,  please.  And  I  must  speak  to  your  father 
again  about  my  assistant,  Father  Krum.  He  is 
not  in  sympathy  with  me,  and  it  would  be  better 
for  both  of  us  if  he  could  be  removed." 

"  It  is  so  unfortunate,"  said  Leonie. 

"  I  have  told  him  repeatedly  that  his  stole  must 
always  match  the  color  of  the  frontal  of  the  altar; 
but  you  perhaps  noticed  last  Sunday  that  he  came 
in  with  a  black  stole,  and,  of  course,  with  a  green 
frontal,  all  hope  of  a  harmonious  combination  of 
colors  was  gone.  It  spoiled  the  entire  service  for 
me. 


138  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

"  For  me  too,"  said  Leonie. 

"  Sometimes  I  think  Krum  is  wilfully  perverse 
and  obstinate.  Upon  several  recent  occasions  he 
has  read  the  Epistle  upon  the  Gospel  side,  and  the 
Gospel  upon  the  Epistle  side,  and  when  I  remon- 
strated with  him,  after  church,  he  was  positively 
offensive.  He  said  that  if  the  people  only  listened 
to  the  Scripture  and  heeded  it,  he  couldn't  see 
why  it  made  any  difference  whether  he  stood  upon 
one  side  or  the  other,  or  balanced  himself  on  top 
of  the  chancel  rail.     Scandalous,  wasn't  it  ? " 

"  Perfectly  scandalous." 

"  He  seems  to  take  pleasure  in  destroying  the 
effect  of  the  finest  groupings  that  I  arrange  in 
the  chancel  with  him  and  the  acolytes ;  and  when 
I  proposed  to  introduce  an  orchestra,  led  by  Pro- 
fessor Batterini,  whom  I  should  dress  in  a  surplice, 
Krum  had  the  insolence  to  say  that  he  did  not  be- 
lieve that  there  was  any  use  of  trying  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  the  poor  with  a  brass  band.  The  man 
seems  to  be  lost  to  all  sense  of  reverence." 

"  Entirely  lost,"  said  Leonie. 

"  And  as  for  praying  to  the  east,  that  he  appears 
determined  not  to  do.  Of  course,  with  the  incor- 
rect orientation  of  the  church,  we  have  only  a 
*  supposititious  east,'  arid  Krum  insists  that  if  I  have 
a  right  to  suppose  the  north-northwest,  I  think  it 
is,  to  be  the  east,  he  is  equally  entitled  to  suppose 
the  southwest  or  due  south  to  be  east,  and  so  he 


CHURCH  MATTERS  OF  IMPORTANCE.     1 39 

does  as  he  pleases.  When  he  said,  the  other  day, 
that  in  his  opinion  more  depended  upon  the  frame 
of  mind  in  which  the  prayers  were  said,  than  upon 
the  particular  point  of  the  compass  towards  which 
the  supplications  were  presented,  I  did  not  answer 
him.  Such  a  man  is  almost  beyond  the  reach 
of  argument." 

Mr.  Cowdrick  came  in  while  Father  Tunicle  was 
speaking ;  and  when  the  good  pastor  had  rehearsed 
his  grievances  to  the  banker,  Mr.  Cowdrick  said, — 

"  Father  Krum's  conduct  is  subversive  of  good 
order  and  of  authority  ;  and  if  he  is  allowed  to  con- 
tinue he  will  demoralize  the  entire  congregation. 
He  ought  to  remember  what  the  Bible  says  about 
submitting  reverently  to  one's  pastors  and  spiritual 
masters.  You  are  his  pastor  and  spiritual  master. 
Isaiah,  isn't  it,  who  says  that  .-* " 

"  The  quotation,  though  somewhat  inexact,"  re- 
plied Father  Tunicle,  "  is  from  the  Catechism." 

"Well,  anyhow,  he  ought  to  do  as  you  want  him 
to  do.  That  is  what  we  pay  him  for.  And  if  he 
refuses  to  do  it,  he  ought  to  be  dismissed." 

"That,"  said  Father  Tunicle,  "will  be  difficult 
to  do  while  he  has  at  least  half  of  the  vestrymen 
with  him.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  his  obstinacy  is 
countenanced  and  approved  by  a  number  of  the 
lay  officers  of  the  church." 

"  Then  we  must  use  force  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Cow- 
drick.    "  If  we  men  who  put  down  our  money  to 


140  THE   CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

keep  the  church  in  operation  cannot  be  allowed  to 
do  as  we  please,  we  had  better  stop  contributing. 
The  people  who  pay  for  spreading  the  glad  tidings 
of  the  Gospel  ought  to  be  allowed  to  spread  thera 
in  their  own  way." 

"  Matters,"  said  Father  Tunicle,  "  are  fast  ap- 
proaching a  point  where  something  will  have  to  be 
done.  Three  times  I  have  instructed  Krum  to  ex- 
tend only  three  of  his  fingers  when  he  pronounces 
absolution,  but  he  continues  to  hold  out  his  entire 
hand,  with  all  his  fingers  wide  open.  The  last  time 
he  did  it  I  noticed  that  Mrs.  Lindsay,  who  is  one 
of  our  party,  got  up  and  left  the  church  in  a  rage." 

"  I  saw  her  go  out,"  said  Leonie.  "  That  was 
the  first  Sunday  upon  which  she  wore  her  purple 
velvet  bonnet.     Everybody  was  looking  at  her." 

"  If  he  does  it  again,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  "  I  am 
in  favor  of  shutting  the  church  doors  against  hira 
and  his  friends.  Peremptory  action  orf  some  kind 
becomes  a  necessity  in  cases  like  this." 

After  some  further  conversation  relative  to  ec- 
clesiastical and  secular  matters,  Father  Tunicle 
took  his  leave,  and  went  home,  probing  the  deep 
recesses  of  his  mind,  as  he  walked  along,  to  find 
some  plan  by  which  he  might  successfully  over- 
come the  resistance  offered  by  the  perverse  Father 
Krum  to  the  evangelization  of  a  fallen  race. 

The  next  Sunday  morning  was  bright  and  beauti- 
ful.    The  air  was  cold,  but  the  sun  shone  from  a 


FATHER  KRUM  AND  FATHER  TUNICLE.   I4I 

clear  sky  to  tempt  from  their  homes  the  worship- 
ers who,  however  willing  to  brave,  on  week-days, 
terrific  storms  sent  to  keep  them  from  shopping 
excursions  and  parties,  have  not  nerve  enough 
upon  Sundays  to  face  a  cloud  no  larger  than  a 
man's  hand. 

Those  persons  who,  upon  devotional  errands  in- 
tent, walked  along  the  footway  near  St.  Cadmus's 
church  at  the  hour  of  morning  prayer,  perceived 
that  something  of  an  unusual  and  exciting  nature 
was  in  progress  in  and  about  that  purely  Gothic 
edifice.  The  many  whose  curiosity  succeeded  in 
overcoming  their  desire  to  be  punctual  in  their 
attendance  at  the  sanctuary,  paused  to  observe 
the  proceedings. 

A  crisis  had  been  reached  in  the  quarrel  be- 
tween Father  Tunicle  and  Father  Krum,  As  the 
latter,  in  response  to  still  another  request  that  he 
would  extend  but  three  fingers  in  his  pronunciation 
of  the  absolution,  had  positively,  and  indeed  with 
vehemence,  refused  to  extend  less  than  four,  and 
had  gone  so  far  as  to  indicate  that,  under  serious 
provocation,  he  might  even  thrust  out  eight  fingers 
and  two  thumbs,  Father  Tunicle's  party  had  re- 
solved that  the  time  had  come  for  them  to  act. 

"  It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  do,"  said  Father  Tu- 
nicle ;  "  but  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed 
of  the  Church  ;  and  we  must  stand  up  boldly  for 
truth  and  right,  though  we  die  for  it." 


142  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

And  so,  upon  that  lovely  Sunday  morning,  when 
dumb  Nature  herself  seemed  to  be  trying  to  ex- 
press, with  the  glory  of  her  sunshine,  and  with  the 
pure  beauty  of  her  azure  sky,  her  sense  of  the 
goodness  of  her  Creator,  Father  Tunicle  and  six 
of  his  vestrymen,  reinforced  by  a  few  earnest  sym- 
pathizers, who  were  subsequently  admitted  through 
a  side  door  by  a  faithful  sexton,  took  possession 
of  the  church. 

When  Father  Krum  arrived,  the  faithful  sexton, 
keeping  watch  and  ward  at  the  aforesaid  door, 
refused  to  let  him  in ;  and  when  the  indignant 
clergyman  demanded  a  reason  for  his  exclusion, 
the  functionary  informed  him  that  his  reckless  con- 
duct in  using  four  fingers  and  a  thumb,  instead  of 
the  inferior  number  warranted  by  a  strict  regard 
for  the  usages  of  the  primitive  Church,  had  per- 
suaded Father  Tunicle  and  his  partisans  that,  as  a 
shepherd  of  the  sheep,  he  was  a  lamentable  and 
dismal,  not  to  say  dangerous,  failure. 

Then  Father  Krum,  in  a  frame  of  mind  that 
contained  no  suggestion  of  Christian  resignation, 
walked  rapidly  around  to  the  front  of  the  church, 
where  he  found  a  group  of  persons,  members  of 
the  congregation,  who  were  standing  before  a 
close-barred  door,  behind  which,  in  the  vestibule, 
stood  Father  Tunicle  and  his  adherents.  While 
Father  Krum,  in  the  mildest  tones  that  he  could 
command,  and  with  a  proper  desire  not  to  produce 


A    RIOTOUS   SERVICE,  143 

any  excitement,  explained  the  situation  to  the 
crowd,  the  six  vestrymen  who  inclined  to  favor  his 
views,  in  opposition  to  those  of  Father  Tunicle, 
came  up,  one  after  the  other. 

They  were  taken  completely  by  surprise,  and  felt 
they  were  at  a  disadvantage.  But  after  some  pre- 
liminary discussion,  they  called  Mr.  Krum  aside, 
and  began  to  consider  with  him  what  should  be 
done.  Mr.  Krum  counselled  a  retreat.  His  voice 
was  for  peace.  He  urged  that  a  resort  to  violence 
at  any  time,  but  especially  at  such  a  time,  would 
be  shocking.  But  the  vestrymen  did  not  agree 
with  him.  Mr.  Yetts  declared  that  they  had  a 
right  to  enter  the  church,  and  that  for  officers  of 
the  church  with  authority  co-equal  with  theirs  to 
deny  that  right,  was  simply  monstrous,  and  not  to 
be  endured.  Mr.  Palfrey,  Mr.  Green,  and  the  other 
vestrymen,  expressed  their  full  agreement  with  this 
proposition. 

•'But  let  us  try  peaceful  means,  at  any  rate," 
said  Mr.  Krum.     "  I  will  knock  at  the  door." 

He  advanced  and  knocked.  "  Who  is  it  .-• "  said 
a  voice  from  within. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Krum,  six  of  the  vestrymen,  and  a  large 
portion  of  the  congregation.     We  wish  to  enter." 

"  Can't  do  it,"  replied  the  voice,  which  was  that 
of  the  sexton,  who  had  advanced  to  the  front,  and 
had  been  thrown  out  upon  the  picket  line  in  the 
vestibule. 


144  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

"  Where  is  Father  Tunicle  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Krum. 

"  He  has  just  begun  the  service,  and  has  gotten 
as  far  as  'dearly  beloved  brethren.'  My  orders  are 
that  you  can't  get  in  until  he  says  the  apostolic 
benediction  ! " 

"  Ask  one  of  the  vestrymen  to  come  to  the  win- 
dow for  a  moment,  please,"  said  Mr.  Krum. 

Presently  one  of  the  front  windows  was  raised  to 
the  height  of  two  or  three  inches,  and  Mr.  Cow- 
dric.k  peered  through  the  wire  netting  that  pro- 
tected it. 

"  What  do  you  want  .-* "  asked  Mr.  Cowdrick. 

"We  wish  to  know,"  said  Mr.  Yetts,  "why  we 
are  excluded  from  this  church,  and  by  whose 
authority .-' " 

"  You  are  excluded,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  "  be- 
cause we  who  pay  the  expenses  are  determined  to 
run  the  church  in  our  own  way.  The  door  is  shut 
by  our  authority  ;  by  mine  ! " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  asked  Mr.  Krum,  with 
much  mildness,  "that  you  intend  to  try  to  make 
this  exclusion  permanent  .<* " 

"  Of  course.  We  have  possession  and  we  in- 
tend to  keep  it.  Hurry  up  if  you  have  anything  to 
say  ;  I  want  to  go  in  and  help  swell  the  responses." 

"  See  here,  Cowdrick,"  said  Mr.  Yetts,  fiercely, 
"  if  you  don't  open  that  door,  we  will  break  it  down. 
We're  not  going  to  stand  any  more  of  this  non- 
sense." 


A    RIOTOUS    SERVICE.  145 

"  You'd  better  not  try  it,"  replied  Mr.  Cowdrick. 
"  I  shall  summon  the  police  to  protect  us  if  you 
do." 

In  response  to  this,  Mr.  Yetts  advanced  to  the 
door  and  kicked  it  three  or  four  times,  viciously. 
The  crowd,  which  had  swollen  until  it  covered  the 
pavement  and  filled  the  street,  laughed  at  this  de- 
monstration. Mr.  Cowdrick,  behind  the  window 
netting,  laughed  also.  Mr.  Yetts,  with  crimson 
face,  retired  in  tolerably  good  order  to  consult  with 
his  friends.     Father  Krum  advised  him  to  give  it  up. 

"  Give  it  up  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Yetts.  "  I'll  show 
you  how  I'll  give  it  up  ! " 

Then  he  and  Mr.  Green  went  around  the  cor- 
ner for  a  little  space,  and  returned  presently  with 
a  somewhat  ponderous  wooden  beam.  The  four 
other  vestrymen  manned  it,  and  aimed  it  at  the 
door.  Bang !  went  the  end  against  the  portal, 
which  bravely  withstood  the  shock.  The  crowd 
cheered,  and  a  dozen  boys,  who  regarded  the  per- 
formance with  delighted  interest,  crowded  up  be- 
hind the  assaulting  column,  and  betrayed  a  desire 
to  give  additional  impetus  to  Mr.  Yetts'  battering 
ram. 

The  Krum  section  of  the  vestry  made  another 
charge,  striking  the  door  with  terrible  force,  but 
still  failing  to  effect  a  breach.  At  this  moment 
one  of  Father  Tunicle's  acolytes  emerged  from  the 
side-door  and  attempted-  to  glide  down  the  street 


146  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

in  search  of  a  policeman.  He  was  captured  by 
one  of  the  besieging  force,  and  held  as  a  prisoner. 
He  brought  the  news  that  Father  Tunicle  had 
stopped  short  in  the  service  when  the  first  blow 
was  struck  against  the  door,  and  that  the  entire 
garrison  was  now  rallied  in  the  vestibule,  where 
they  were  fortifying  the  portal  with  the  baptismal 
font,  the  episcopal  chair,  some  Sunday-school 
benches,  and  a  lectern. 

Mr.  Krum  remonstrated  with  Mr.  Yetts,  and  en- 
treated .him  not  to  proceed  any  further.  He  urged 
that  it  was  a  dreadful  thing  for  Christian  men  to 
create  such  a  disturbance  upon  the  Sabbath-day. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that ! "  replied  Mr.  Yetts, 
who  was  now  warm  with  wrath  and  with  excite- 
ment. "  When  Peter  did  wrong  didn't  Paul  '  with- 
stand him  to  the  face'  .•• " 

"  Yes  ;  but,  my  dear  Mr.  Yetts,  think  of  it ! 
St.  Paul  did  not  try  to  batter  down  the  church  door 
on  a  Sunday  morning  with  a  log  of  wood !  You 
are  going  too  far  !  " 

•'  Times  have  changed  since  then,"  said  Mr. 
Yetts.  "  Paul  probably  never  encountered  pre- 
cisely such  an  emergency.  Once  more ! "  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Yetts  to  the  assailants.  "  Give  it  to 
'em  hard  this  time  !  " 

Seizing  the  beam,  the  vestrymen  and  their 
friends  advanced  once  more  to  the  attack.  Three 
times  was  the  door   smitten    without    effect,    but 


A  Riotous  Service.    Page  147. 


A    RIOTOUS   SERVICE.  1 47 

when  the  fourth  blow  was  struck  it  gave  way,  and 
was  flung  wide  open,  revealing  Father  Tunicle  and 
his  friends,  standing  amid  amass  of  overturned  and 
wrecked  furniture,  pale  with  rage  and  dismay,  and 
ready  to  defend  with  force  the  citadel  which  thus 
was  exposed  to  the  enemy. 

The  crowd  sent  up  a  shout  of  satisfaction,  and  the 
intrepid  Yetts,  with  his  five  vestrymen,  regarded 
their  triumph  with  exultation 

What  they  would  have  done  next,  if  they  had 
been  permitted  to  press  forward  through  the  breach, 
can  only  be  imagined.  For  a  moment  it  looked  as 
if  beneath  that  spire  which  idly  pointed  these  men 
toward  a  better  country,  whence  rage  and  hatred 
and  all  evil  passions  are  shut  out,  and  beneath  the 
bell,  whose  function  was  to  send  vibrating  through 
the  tremulous  air  its  summons  to  the  temple  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  there  might  be  a  hand-to-hand 
encounter,  in  which  priest  and  people  should  as- 
sail each  other  with  furious  violence. 

But,  most  happily,  at  this  critical  moment,  a 
squad  of  policemen  came  upon  the  scene,  and 
entering  the  doorway,  separated  the  combatants 
and  prevented  any  further  demonstration. 

"  Never  mind  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Yetts,  shaking 
his  fist  at  the  Father  Tunicle  faction.  "  We  will 
go  to  law  about  it.  We  shall  see  who  has  a  right 
to  use  this  church  !  " 

"  As  you  please  !  "  replied  Mr.  Sloper,  one  of  the 


148  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

vestrymen  who  adhered  to  Father  Tunicle.  "  We 
will  fight  you  to  the  last  gasp  ! " 

And  then  both  parties  dispersed,  leaving  the 
church  in  charge  of  the  policemen,  who  closed  the 
door,  and  took  the  key  to  the  nearest  magistrate. 

Taken  altogether,  the  day's  proceedings,  re- 
garded as  the  performance  of  Christian  gentlemen, 
citizens  of  a  Christian  country,  upon  the  day  desig- 
nated by  Christianity  as  a  day  of  peace  and  rest  — 
as  a  day  of  devotion  to  celestial  and  holy  things, 
could  hardly  be  regarded  as  encouraging  to  those 
hopeful  persons  who  cherish  the  theory  that  the 
world  is  to  be  made  better  by  illustrations  of  the 
excellence  of  the  advantages  of  pure  religion. 


MYSTERIOUS    DISAPPEARANCE.  I49 


CHAPTER   III. 

MYSTERIOUS    DISAPPEARANCE    OF  MR.  COWDRICK. 

THE    "CRAB." "HEAR    BOTH    SIDES." A  SKEL- 
ETON   DISCOVERED. A    POWERFUL    SERMON. 

EFORE  another  Sunday  came,  the  com- 
munity was  shocked  and  startled  by  the  an- 
nouncement that  Mr.  Cowdrick,  the  banker, 
had  suddenly  and  mysteriously  disappeared.  What 
had  become  of  him  nobody  seemed  to  know.  Even 
Mrs.  Cowdrick  apparently  did  not  know.  The 
friends  who  promptly  called  upon  her,  partly  for  the 
purpose  of  offering  her  their  sympathy  and  partly 
with  an  intent  to  gratify  their  curiosity,  ascer- 
tained, during  the  intervals  of  her  hysterical 
spasms,  that  she  cherished  a  wild  and  rather  inco- 
herent theory  that  Mr.  Cowdrick  had  been  brutally 
assassinated  by  some  person  and  for  some  cause 
unknown.  And  this  theory  obtained  some  accept- 
ance for  a  time  among  amiable  people,  who  were 
disposed  to  take  the  most  charitable  view  of  the 
situation.  But  the  number  of  these  speedily  di- 
minished when  the  newspapers,  a  day  or  two  later, 


150  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

revealed  the  result  of  an  official  examination  of  the 
affairs  of  Mr.  Cowdrick's  bank.  The  public  then 
learned  that  that  financial  institution  was  rotten 
through  and  through  ;  that  Mr.  Cowdrick  and  his 
partners  in  crime  had  not  only  used,  for  purposes 
of  private  speculation,  the  money  of  the  depositors, 
but  that  they  had  stolen  everything  of  value  that 
had  been  committed  to  their  care,  and  had  left  the 
bank  an  absolute,  hopeless  wreck,  and  reduced  the 
innocent  and  unsuspicious  stockholders  to  beggary. 

The  public  excitement,  of  course,  was  great. 
Mrs.  Cowdrick's  friends  neglected  her.  The  rich 
and  influential  De  Flukes  actually  insulted  her  by 
sending  to  recall  an  invitation  to  their  reception 
that  had  been  sent  to  her.  As  if  Mrs.  Cowdrick 
could  have  attended  the  reception  at  any  rate ! 
This  was  the  cruellest  thing  of  all,  to  Mrs.  Cow- 
drick. She  broke  down  completely  and  went  to 
bed,  where  Leonie  waited  upon  her  to  supply  her 
with  almost  alarming  quantities  of  camphor  and 
smelling-salts. 

As  no  traces  of  the  fugitive  could  be  found ;  as 
no  one  could  testify  to  having  seen  him  leave  the 
city  ;  and  as  the  detective  force,  after  following  out 
without  success  any  number  of  what  they  considered 
excellent  clues,  appeared  to  have  relapsed  into  a 
normal  condition  of  imbecility  and  indifference,  the 
conclusion  reached  by  many  persons  was,  that 
Cowdrick  had  destroyed  himself ;  and  the  energetic 


MYSTERIOUS    DISAPPEARANCE.  I5I 

and  enterprising  coroner,  McSorley,  who  had  just 
.been  elected  upon  the  Democratic  ticket,  went  to 
work  to  drag  all  the  rivers  and  creeks  and  ponds  in 
the  neighborhood. 

Colonel  Hoker,  the  editor  of  the  Crab,  the  leading 
daily  paper,  advocated  a  dozen  different  theories 
in  turn,  and  his  indomitable  reporters  not  only 
secured  early  and  accurate  reports  of  the  condi- 
tion of  the  bank,  but  they  obtained  expressions  of 
opinion  from  at  least  thirty  eminent  citizens  who 
really  knew  no  more  about  the  matter  than  other 
people,  and  they  watched  Cowdrick's  house  so 
closely,  and  were  so  successful  in  establishing  con- 
fidential relations  with  the  chambermaid,  that  they 
were  able  to  tell  how  often  the  doctor  called  to  see 
Mrs.  Cowdrick,  what  quantity  of  reinvigorating 
drugs  she  consumed,  how  her  medicine  agreed 
with  her,  and  what  she  had  every  day  for  dinner. 

A  country  wherein  a  tyrant's  power  is  used  to 
shackle  the  press,  and  to  rob  it  of  freedom  of  utter- 
ance, does  not  know  how  much  it  misses. 

The  uncertainty  in  which  the  fate  of  Mr.  Cow- 
drick was  involved,  made  it  exceedingly  difficult 
for  Colonel  Hoker  to  discuss  the  bank  sensation  in 
his  editorial  columns.  If  he  could  have  felt  sure 
that  the  unhappy  fugitive  had  really  slain  himself, 
the  course  of  the  Colonel  would  have  been  clear ; 
for  then  he  could  with  safety  have  directed  public 
attention  to  the  peculiar  atrocity  of  the  transactions 


152  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

at  the  bank ;  he  could  have  held  the  miserable  of- 
fender up  before  the  public  eye  to  point  to  him 
as  an  awful  example  to  others,  and  especially  to  the 
young,  and  he  could  have  preached  many  eloquent 
sermons  upon  the  text,  "Be  sure  your  sins  will 
find  you  out ! " 

But  while  a  chance  remained  that  Cowdrick  was 
still  alive  and  might  return,  the  Colonel  knew  that 
it  was  the  duty  of  persons  upon  whom  it  devolved 
to  form  public  opinion  through  the  instrumentality 
of  the  press,  to  be  careful.  He  had  learned  from 
extended  observation  that  an  absent  offender  who 
has  been  roughly  used  as  a  warning  against  pur- 
suance of  the  paths  of  vice,  sometimes  comes  back, 
and,  after  gaining  possession  of  power  and  riches, 
manifests  a  disposition  to  make  things  very  uncom- 
fortable for  the  eminent  journalists  who  have  used 
him  as  a  basis  for  their  denunciations  of  sin.  And 
so  the  Colonel  discussed  the  matter  in  the  Crab 
only  in  a  general  way ;  lamenting  the  loss  to  the 
stockholders ;  expressing  regret  that  "  one  of  our 
most  eminent  citizens  should  be,  for  a  time  at 
least,  in  some  respects  under  a  cloud,"  and  urging 
that  perhaps  the  disaster  might  fairly  be  attributed 
to  the  spirit  of  wild  speculation  which  seemed  at 
times  to  animate  entire  communities,  rather  than 
to  a  deliberate  purpose  to  inflict  injury  upon  con- 
fiding and  innocent  persons. 

The  dexterity  displayed  by  Colonel  Hoker,  in 


THE   CRAB.  153 

keeping  the  Crab  in  such  a  nice  position  that 
while  it  apparently  conceded  much  to  public  senti- 
ment and  the  requirements  of  morality,  it  yet  left  a 
very  wide  margin  for  the  contingency  of  Cowdrick's 
vindication  and  restoration  to  prosperity,  was  really 
marvellous. 

But  the  nicest  ingenuity  sometimes  will  not  avail 
against  accident,  or  rather  against  that  Fate  which 
ordains  catastrophe  with  ironical  contempt  for  hu- 
man foresight. 

The  Colonel  was  compelled  to  leave  town  for  a 
few  days,  and  in  order  to  make  the  Crab  entirely 
safe,  he  penned  two  editorial  articles,  one  to  be 
used  in  the  event  of  the  discovery  of  Cowdrick's 
dead  body  during  his  absence,  the  other  to  be 
inserted  if  Cowdrick  should  return  alive  to  face  his 
accusers  and  his  fate. 

The  former  article  ran  in  this  wise  : — 

"  The  Way  of  the  Transgressor. 
"  It  has  not  often  been  our  lot  to  present  to  our 
readers  more  striking  proof  than  that  which  is 
found  in  our  columns  to-day  of  the  fact  that  Satan 
makes  hard  bargains.  It  is  now  positively  ascer- 
tained that  Cowdrick  the  swindler,  forger  and  thief, 
driven  by  desperation  at  the  exposure  of  his  awful 
crimes,  and,  let  us  hope,  for  the  sake  of  human  na- 
ture, by  the  stings  of  a  conscience  which  could  not 
hearken  with  indifference  to  the  cries  of  the  widows 


154  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

and  orphans  reduced  at  one  fell  blow  to  beggary, 
took  his  own  life,  and  so  ended  a  career  of  crime 
which  honest  men  shrink  from  contemplating.  It 
is,  perhaps,  for  the  best,  however  much  we  may 
regret  that  this  wretched  felon,  burdened  with  guilt 
and  shame,  should  have  robbed  the  law  of  its  right 
to  punish,  and  should  have  gone  into  eternity  un- 
shriven,  with  the  guilt  of  self-destruction  added  to 
the  mountain  of  sins  for  which  already  he  was  re- 
quired to  give  account.  We  shrink  from  discus- 
sion of  the  dreadful  details  of  this  shocking  and 
sickening  tragedy ;  but  it  will  not  have  been  en- 
acted in  vain  if  it  shall  seem  to  warn  those  who  are 
tempted,  as  this  man  was,  to  surrender  honesty  at 
the  demand  of  greed,  and  to  permit  the  maddening 
thirst  for  gain  to  persuade  them  to  trample  in  the 
dust  their  obligations  to  society,  to  their  families, 
and  to  those  who  had  given  them  their  trust." 

The  second  article  pursued  rather  a  different  line 
of  thought.     It  was  to  the  following  effect :  — 

"  A  Demand  for  Fair  Play. 
"  We  take  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  in  announcing 
that  Henry  P.  Cowdrick,  Esq.,  the  well-known 
banker,  whose  name  has  been  before  the  public  for 
some  days  past  in  connection  with  some  unpleas- 
ant, but  not  yet  positively  authentic,  rumors,  has 
returned  to  the  city  in  the  enjoyment  of  excellent 
health.     It  is  understood  that  an  immediate  further 


HEAR    BOTH    SIDES.  I55 

examination  into  the  affairs  of  the  bank  will  be 
made  with  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Cowdrick,  and  we 
merely  express  the  general  wish  when  we  say  that 
we  hope  to  have  some  of  the  transactions  that  have 
excited  severest  comment  explained  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  vindicate  Mr.  Cowdrick  of  every  sus- 
picion of  wilful  wrong-doing.  Meantime,  while  this 
inquiry  is  pending,  and  while  Mr.  Cowdrick  is 
preparing  his  statement  of  the  case,  it  is  only 
just  to  him  to  ask  that  there  shall  be  a  suspension 
of  public  opinion.  His  former  high  standing,  his 
services  to  this  community,  the  obscurity  in  which 
the  recent  operations  of  the  bank  are  shrouded,  and 
the  most  ordinary  requirements  of  fair  play,  all  com- 
bine to  make  it  desirable  that  public  opinion  shall 
not  pronounce  a  final  verdict  before  the  case  is  made 
up.  We  need  not  say  how  earnestly  we  trust  that 
Mr.  Cowdrick  will  emerge  from  his  troubles  with 
his  honor  unstained,  and  his  reputation  as  a  faithful 
guardian  of  the  trusts  confided  to  him,  untarnished." 
As  a  precautionary  measure,  the  preparation  of 
these  articles  appeared  to  be  in  a  high  sense  ju- 
dicious ;  and  the  Colonel  naturally  felt  that  the  Crab 
might  be  depended  on  to  keep  nicely  upon  the 
right  track  until  he  should  come  home.  But,  alas  ! 
upon  the  next  day  but  one  after  his  departure,  the 
foreman  of  the  Crab  composing-room,  either  mis- 
taking his  instructions,  or  being  too  much  in  haste 
in  arranging  his  material,  placed  both  articles  to- 


156  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

gather  in  the  form,  and  the  Crab  came  out  in  the 
morning  to  provoke  the  mirth  of  the  town,  to  ex- 
cite the  contempt  of  its  enemies,  and  to  drive  the 
unhappy  associate  editors  of  the  paper  to  madness 
and  despair.  The  manner  in  which  the  rival  jour- 
nals commented  upon  the  occurrence  was  both 
brutal  and  infamous  ;  and  when  the  subject  became 
a  little  stale,  the  editors  of  the  rival  journals  put 
the  Crab  articles  carefully  away  in  scrap  books,  so 
as  to  make  sure  of  having  them  ready  for  irritating 
and  badgering  Colonel  Hoker  upon  every  favora- 
ble opportunity  during  all  the  years  to  come. 

The  Colonel  himself,  upon  discerning  the  catas- 
trophe in  a  copy  of  the  paper  which  he  picked  up 
at  his  hotel,  expressed  his  feelings  freely  and 
vehemently  by  telegraph,  and  then  he  started  home 
upon  a  fast  express  train  for  the  purpose  of  ex- 
plaining his  views  more  fully  and  precisely. 

The  Crab  itself  alluded  to  the  subject  only  so  far 
as  to  suggest  that  the  stupidity  of  an  associate 
editor  was  accountable  for  the  performance,  and  to 
hint  that  there  was  some  reason  for  suspecting 
that  bribery  had  been  employed  by  the  owners  of 
rival  papers,  in  the  vain  hope  to  bring  the  Crab,  the 
only  really  infallible  journal  published,  into  con- 
tempt. 

The  efforts  of  McSorley,  the  coroner,  to  demon- 
strate the  correctness  of  his  theory  of  suicide  were 
indefatigable.     The  body  not  having  been  discov- 


A    SKELETON    DISCOVERED.  1 5/ 

ered  in  any  of  the  streams,  McSorley  began  to 
search  for  it  upon  the  land.  The  pursuit,  how- 
ever, was  not  profitable,  for  no  traces  of  Mr.  Cow- 
drick  could  be  found.  An  ordinary  coroner  would 
have  abandoned  the  hunt  in  despair ;  but  Mc- 
Sorley was  no  common  man.  He  brought  to  the 
performance  of  the  functions  of  his  office  an  en- 
thusiasm which  never  failed  to  kindle  at  the  prom- 
ise of  a  fee  ;  and  as,  in  this  case,  he  was  thoroughly 
convinced  that  Cowdrick  ought  to  have  committed 
suicide,  he  felt  that  for  Cowdrick  to  have  evaded 
his  duty  in  the  matter  would  have  been  to  perpe- 
trate a  wanton  outrage  upon  Coroner  McSorley. 

The  following  extract  from  the  local  reports  in 
the  Crab  will  explain  the  character  of  the  coroner's 
ultimate  effort :  — 

"  Yesterday  a  number  of  large  bones  were  dis- 
covered beneath  an  old  stable  on  Twelfth  Street, 
by  some  laborers.  It  was  believed  by  most  of  the 
spectators  that  they  were  the  bones  of  a  horse. 
But  Coroner  McSorley,  who  was  sent  for,  declared 
at  once  his  belief  that  they  were  portions  of  the 
skeleton  of  one  of  our  prominent  citizens,  a  banker, 
who  has  been  missing  for  several  days.  This 
view  was  contested  by  several  of  the  persons  pres- 
ent upon  the  ground  that  the  remains  were  abso- 
lutely fleshless,  and  manifestly  very  old.  But  the 
coroner,  to  demonstrate  the  accuracy  of  his  view, 
proceeded  to  arrange  the  bones   upon  the  pave- 


158  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

ment  in  the  form  of  a  man.  He  succeeded  in  the 
attempt  to  some  extent,  and  was  about  to  summon 
his  jury  of  inquest,  when  Dr.  Wattles  came  up. 
The  doctor  examined  the  skeleton,  and  then  the 
following  conversation  ensued  between  him  and 
Coroner  McSorley :  — 

" '  You  don't  imagine  that  to  be  the  skeleton  of 
a  human  being,  do  you,  Mr.  McSorley  .-*' 

"  Certainly  it  is  !    Don't  you  see  the  shape  of  it .'' ' 

"  '  But,  my  dear  sir,  what  you  have  arranged  as 
the  spine,  runs  clear  up  through  what  you  suppose 
to  be  the  skull,  and  projects  two  or  three  inches 
beyond  the  top  of  the  head.' 

" '  Of  course  ;  and  that  is  very  likely  the  cause  of 
all  the  trouble.  The  man's  spine  worked  up  into 
his  head  and  disordered  his  mind.  An  aunt  of 
mine,  in  Wisconsin,  went  mad  from  that  very 
cause.' 

" '  But  how  do  you  account  for  the  fact  that  there 
are  three  elbows  in  the  left  arm  and  none  at  all  in 
the  right. 

'"Dr.  Wattles,  I  am  not  obliged  to  account  for 
eccentricities  of  formation  in  different  individuals. 
I  am  satisfied  with  them  as  nature  made  them  ; 
and  that  is  enough.  It 's  none  of  my  business  if 
Cowdrick  had  eleven  elbows  in  one  arm,  and  thirty- 
four  in  the  other.' 

"  *  I  will  not  argue  the  point,  sir ;  but  you  cer- 
tainly have  no  authority  for  locating  two  ribs  in 


A    SKELETON    DISCOVERED.  1 59 

the  neck,  and  for  placing  a  row  of  teeth  upon  the 
upper  side  of  the  right  foot.  That  foot,  Mr.  Mc- 
Sorley,  is  nothing  but  a  fragment  of  a  lower  jaw- 
bone, depend  upon  it.' 

" '  How  do  you  know  that  the  deceased  had  no 
teeth  there  .''  You  doctors  always  want  to  insist 
that  every  man  is  constructed  on  the  same  plan.  I 
used  to  know  a  man  in  Canada  who  had  four  molar 
teeth  in  his  ankle ;  and  two  of  them  were  plugged. 
This  appears  to  be  a  similar  case.' 

" '  But  you  never  knew  a  man  who  had  a  thigh- 
bone where  his  shoulder-blade  ought  to  be,  like 
this  one,  did  you  .-'  You  never  saw  a  man  with  a 
knee-cap  in  the  small  of  his  back,  either,  did  you  ? " 

"  '  Maybe  I  did,  and  maybe  I  didn't.  I  have  no 
time  to  discuss  the  subject  now.  The  inquest  that 
I  am  about  to  hold  will  bring  out  the  facts.  Mr. 
O'Flynn,  swear  in  the  jury  ! '  " 

The  evidence  that  was  given  by  the  witnesses 
was  of  the  most  varied  and  entertaining  charac- 
ter; and  though  much  of  it  was  vague  and  much 
was  irrelevant,  the  jury  appeared  to  have  no  iffi- 
culty  in  reaching  a  conclusion,  for,  after  a  few  min- 
utes' deliberation,  they  brought  in  a  verdict  that 
"  the  deceased,  Henry  P.  Cowdrick,  came  to  his 
death  from  cause  or  causes  unknown  ; "  and  then 
they  collected  their  fees  and  dispersed,  with  a  grate- 
ful consciousness  that  they  had  fully  discharged 
their  duty  to  society. 


l60  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

But,  of  course,  perfectly  disinterested  persons, 
persons  who  were  not  in  the  way  of  earning  jury 
fees,  were  disposed  to  regard  with  increduhty  the 
conclusions  reached  by  the  coroner  and  his  friends, 
and  still  it  was  for  the  community  a  vexed  ques- 
tion —  What  had  become  of  Mr.  Cowdrick  ? 

The  coroner's  theory,  however,  was  not  entirely 
forgotten,  because  Dr.  Wattles  sent  to  one  of  the 
daily  papers  a  communication,  in  which  he  ex- 
pressed his  opinion  of  the  bones  over  which  the 
inquest  was  held.  This  provoked  from  "  An  Em- 
inent Scientist,"  who  had  not  seen  the  bones,  a 
suggestion  of  the  possibility  that  they  may  have 
belonged  to  some  mysterious  creature  who  was 
the  missing  link  between  man  and  the  lower 
orders  of  mammalia. 

To  this  there  came  a  hot  response  from  Father 
Tunicle  and  several  other  clergymen,  who  pro- 
ceeded to  show  the  monstrous  folly  and  wickedness 
of  such  a  supposition,  and  who  demonstrated  that 
Science  and  Infidelity,  not  to  sa)^  sheer  Paganism, 
were  pretty  nearly  one  and  the  same  thing. 

The  clerical  utterances  so  excited  at  least  half- 
a-dozen  other  Eminent  Scientists  that  the  latter 
undertook  to  demonstrate,  through  the  columns  of 
the  daily  papers,  that  the  book  of  Genesis  was  writ- 
ten by  Jeremiah  ;  that  life  first  visited  this  planet 
in  the  shape  of  star-dust,  which,  after  developing 
into  jelly-fish,  gradually  grew  to  the  ape  form,  and 


"  You  NEVER  Saw  a  Man  with  a  Knee-cap  in  the  Small  of 
HIS  Back."    Page  159. 


CONTROVERSY.  l6l 

ultimately  became  man.  They  showed  how  all  re- 
ligion is  priestcraft  and  superstition  ;  they  traced 
all  the  creeds  backward  to  myths  built  upon  the 
operations  of  Nature  ;  they  could  hardly  refrain 
from  mirth  at  the  notion  of  a  Great  First  Cause  ; 
and  they  positively  refused  to  join  with  the  multi- 
tude, for  whom,  however,  they  expressed  deep  com- 
passion, in  believing  anything  that  they  could  not 
see,  or  feel,  or  analyze. 

It  seemed  a  large  controversy  to  grow  out  of 
Coroner  McSorley's  arrangement  of  the  unearthed 
bones  ;  but  the  controversialists  manifestly  regard- 
ed it  as  of  the  very  highest  importance  ;  although, 
when  it  was  ended,  each  believed  precisely  what  he 
had  believed  before. 

At  St.  Cadmus's,  the  Cowdrick  tragedy  had  had, 
upon  the  whole,  rather  a  good  efifect.  The  event 
was  mournful,  of  course,  but  it  produced  some  de- 
sirable results.  The  Tunicle  party  felt  that  they 
had  lost  one  of  their  most  ardent  supporters,  and  a 
contributor  upon  whose  wealth  they  had  depended 
greatly  for  the  success  of  their  plans.  Thus  they 
were  able  more  easily  to  perceive  the  excellence  of 
a  spirit  of  concession,  and  at  once  they  began  to 
approach  the  other  side  with  offers  of  compromise. 

Happily,  at  this  juncture,  Father  Krum  received 
a  "  call "  to  a  church  in  another  diocese,  and  he 
accepted  it  promptly,  sending  in  his  resignation  of 
his  position  as  the  assistant  minister  at  St.  Cad- 


1 62  THE   CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

mus's.  Father  Tunicle,  then,  of  his  own  motion, 
offered  to  abandon,  as  not  absolutely  essential  to 
salvation,  the  use  of  black  book-markers  upon 
Good  Friday ;  whereupon  Mr.  Yetts  and  his  adher- 
ents in  the  vestry  declared  themselves  satisfied, 
and  once  more  resumed  their  accustomed  places  in 
the  sanctuary  on  Sunday. 

Upon  the  second  Sunday  after  the  disappearance 
of  Mr.  Cowdrick,  Father  Tunicle,  who  held  stoutly 
to  the  theory  that  his  late  vestryman  had  been 
murdered,  resolved  to  refer  indirectly  in  his  re- 
marks from  the  pulpit  to  the  bereavement;  and 
upon  his  invitation,  Mrs.  Cowdrick  and  Leonie  at- 
tended the  church,  heavily  veiled,  to  obtain  what 
consolation  might  be  possible  from  the  services. 

Father  Tunicle,  being  somewhat  pressed  for 
time  during  the  preceding  week,  had  procured 
from  a  dealer  in  such  commodities,  at  the  price  of 
three  dollars,  an  original  sermon  addressed  to  per- 
sons in  affliction,  and  this  he  brought  with  him 
into  the  pulpit,  wrapped  in  Leonie's  worked  velvet 
sermon-cover.  The  fact  that  the  sermon  was  nicely 
lithographed,  so  that  it  closely  resembled  manu- 
script, made  it  quite  impossible  for  any  one  to 
suspect  that  it  was  not  the  product  of  Father  Tu- 
nicle's  own  intellectual  effort  and  of  his  earnest 
sympathy.  The  discourse  was  divided  into  four 
parts  ;  three  heads,  and  an  affecting  application  ; 
which,   at  three  dollars  for  the  whole,  of  course 


A    POWERFUL    SERMON.  163 

amounted  to  just  seventy-five  cents  a  part  —  not 
too  much,  surely,  for  so  wholesome  and  comforting 
a  sermon. 

Father  Tunicle  preached  it  with  much  elo- 
quence ;  but  Mrs.  Cowdrick,  despite  an  occasional 
sob  beneath  her  veil,  managed  to  restrain  her  feel- 
ings until  Father  Tunicle  had  gotten  through  with 
one  dollar  and  a  half's  worth  of  the  sermon,  and 
had  begun  upon  the  third  head.  Then  Mrs.  Cow- 
drick could  stand  it  no  longer.  One  passionate 
outburst  of  grief  followed  another,  until,  when  the 
attention  of  the  entire  congregation  was  directed  to 
Mrs.  Cowdrick,  the  sexton  came  in,  and  led  her  in 
a  fainting  condition  down  the  aisle  to  the  door, 
where  she  was  placed  in  the  carriage  with  Leonie, 
with  nothing  to  solace  her  but  the  reflection  that 
everybody  in  the  church,  including  the  odious  De 
Flukes,  7mist  have  noticed  her  seal-skin  sacque  and 
her  lovely  diamond  earrings. 


164  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

MR.    WEEMS. TOM     BENNET's     WAY. MR.    GUNn's 

PROPOSAL. BREACH  OF  PROMISE. — THE  TRIAL. 

NE  morning,  Mr.  Julius  Weems  sat  in  his 
studio,  dressed  in  velvet  working  jacket 
and  slouching  hat.  With  palette  on 
thumb,  brush  in  hand,  and  pipe  in  mouth,  Mr. 
Weems  was  endeavoring  to  give  a  sufficiently  aged 
appearance  to  a  "  Saul  and  Witch  of  Endor,"  by 
Salvator  Rosa. 

"  Hang  it,"  said  Mr.  Weems  to  himself,  as  he 
placed  a  dab  of  burnt  umber  on  the  withered  cheek 
of  the  hag,  "  everything  seems  to  go  wrong  !  It  was 
bad  enough  to  have  old  Cowdrick  dupe  me  in  the 
way  he  did  ;  but  right  on  top  of  that,  to  hear  from 
Crook  and  Gudgem  that  the  Rubens  business  is 
being  overdone,  and  that  they  have  had  eight  St. 
Ethelbertas  offered  to  them  during  the  week,  is  a 
little  too  much.  If  the  entire  profession  of  artists 
is  going  to  turn  to  painting  old  masters,  I  will  have 
to  come  down  to  modern  art  and  poor  prices.     It's 


MR.    WEEMS.  165 

the  worst  luck  !  There  is  no  chance  at  all  for  a  man 
to  earn  an  honest  living  !  " 

Mr.  Weems's  soliloquy  was  interrupted  by  a 
light  knocking  upon  his  door.  Hastily  throwing  a 
cloth  over  the  picture  upon  his  easel,  and  turning 
two  Titians  and  a  Raphael  with  their  faces  to  the 
wall,  Mr.  Weems  opened  the  door  and  admitted 
the  visitor. 

"  Good  morning  !  "  said  the  intruder.  "  Don't 
know  me,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"No."  responded  Mr.  Weems. 
."  My  name  is  Gunn  ;  Benjamin  P.  Gunn." 

"  I  have  heard  of  you.  You  are  interested  in  life 
assurance,  I  believe  ?  A  canvasser,  or  something  .-• " 

"  Yes,  I  was ;  but  I  have  given  that  up  now. 
The  business  was  overdone.     I  grew  tired  of  it  I  " 

"  You  don't  know  anything,  then,  about  Mr. 
Cowdrick's  case  ?  I  mean  whether  he  had  much  on 
his  life  or  not  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  well,  I  have  heard  that  he  was  insured  for 
fifty  thousand  or  so  ;  I  don't  remember  the  exact 
amount.     But  it  makes  no  difference." 

"  Will  the  widow  be  likely  to  get  it  if  he  is 
dead .? " 

"  In  my  opinion  she  will  have  a  mighty  slim 
chance  of  collecting  anything,  even  if  she  can  prove 
that  he  is  actually  deceased.  From  what  I  know 
of  the  President  of  the  Widows'  and  Orphans'  Mu- 
tual Life    Insurance  Company,  I    believe   he   will 


l66  THE   CITY   OF    BURLESQUE. 

fight  the  claim  through  all  the  courts.     That  is  his 
rule.     Nearly  all  the  companies  do  it." 

"  What !  even  if  it  is  a  clear  case  for  the  policy- 
holder .? " 

"  Of  course  !  That  is  the  regular  thing.  They'll 
worry  a  widow  so  that  she  will  be  glad  to  com- 
promise on  half  the  claim,  and  by  the  time  she  has 
paid  her  lawyers  most  of  that  is  gone." 

"  That  seems  hard  !  " 

"Yes;  that  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  quit. 
Take  the  case  of  Lemuel  A.  Gerlach,  for  example. 
You  remember  it  ? " 

"No." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  did  my  best  to  persuade  that  man 
to  insure.  He  didn't  want  to  ;  but  I  harried  him 
into  it.  I  waited  on  him  at  his  office  ;  I  disturbed 
him  at  his  meals  ;  I  lay  in  wait  for  him  when  he 
came  home  from  the  club  ;  I  followed  him  to  the 
sea-shore  in  summer  ;  when  he  went  yachting  I 
pursued  him  with  a  steam-tug ;  when  he  was  sick 
I  got  the  apothecary  to  enclose  our  circulars  with 
his  medicine ;  I  sat  next  to  him  in  church  for  four 
consecutive  Sundays,  and  slipped  mortality  tables 
into  his  prayer-book  ;  I  rode  with  him  in  the  same 
carriage  when  he  went  to  funerals,  and  lectured 
him  all  the  way  out  to  the  cemetery  upon  the  un- 
certainty of  human  life.  Finally,  he  succumbed. 
I  knew  he  would.  It  was  only  a  question  of  time. 
I  took  him  down  to  the  ofRce  ;  the  company's  sur- 


TOM    BENNET's   way.  167 

geon  examined  him,  and  said  he  was  the  healthiest 
man  he  ever  saw  —  not  a  flaw  in  him  anywhere. 
So  he  paid  his  premium  and  got  his  policy.  Two 
months  later  he  died.  When  Mrs.  Gerlach  called 
to  get  her  money,  the  President  threatened  to  have 
her  put  out  of  the  office  because  she  denied  that 
Gerlach's  liver  was  torpid  when  he  took  out  his 
policy." 

"  Did  they  pay,  finally  } " 

"  Pay  !  not  a  dollar  !  The  widow  sued  to  recover, 
and  the  company  put  the  surgeon  and  eight 
miscellaneous  doctors  on  the  stand  to  prove  that 
Gerlach  for  years  had  been  a  complete  physical 
wreck,  with  more  diseases  than  most  people  ever 
heard  of ;  and  they  undertook  to  show  that  Gerlach 
had  devoted  the  latter  part  of  his  life  to  organizing 
a  scheme  for  foisting  himself  upon  the  company  for 
the  purpose  of  swindling  it.  That  was  five  years 
ago.  The  case  is  pending  in  the  courts  yet,  and 
the  widow  has  already  spent  twenty  per  cent,  more 
than  the  face  of  the  policy."    . 

"It  was  not  a  very  profitable  speculation,  cer- 
tainly." 

"  No,  sir ;  it  wasn't.  I'll  tell  you  what,  Mr. 
Weems,  if  a  man  wants  to  realize  on  his  departed 
relatives,  that  is  not  the  way  to  do  it.  Anything 
is  better  than  life  insurance ;  even  Tom  Bennet's 
way." 

"  How  was  that  ? " 


l68  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

"  Why,  Tom  Bennet,  you  know,  is  a  friend  of 
mine,  who  lives  out  in  Arkansas.  And  one  day, 
some  years  ago,  a  little  cemetery  in  the  town  in 
which  he  lived  was  sold  out  by  the  sheriff.  Tommy 
was  looking  about  for  a  site  on  which  to  build  a 
house  for  himself,  and,  as  this  one  happened  to  suit 
him,  he  bid  on  it,  and  got  it  at  a  very  low  figure. 
When  he  began  to  dig  the  cellar,  Tom  found  that 
the  folks  who  were  interred  in  the  place  had  been 
petrified,  to  a  man.  Every  occupant  turned  to 
solid  stone !  So  Tom,  you  know,  being  a  practical 
kind  of  man,  made  up  his  mind  to  quarry  out  the 
departed,  and  to  utilize  them  for  building  material." 

"  Rather  unkind,  wasn't  it  .■'" 

"Tom  didn't  appear  to  think  so.  And  as  the 
building  made  progress,  he  rubbed  down  Mr.  Flah- 
erty for  a  door-sill,  and  had  Judge  Paterson  chipped 
off  with  a  chisel  into  the  handsomest  hitching-post 
that  you  ever  saw." 

"  Horrible ! " 

"Yes.  Some  of  the  McTurk  family  were  put 
into  the  bow-window,  between  the  sashes,  and  the 
whole  of  the  families  of  Major  Magill  and  Mr. 
Dougherty  were  worked  into  the  foundation.  And 
when  the  roof  was  going  on,  Tom  Bennet  took 
General  Hidenhooper,  and  bored  a  flue  through 
the  crown  of  his  head  dovvnward,  so  as  to  use  him 
for  a  chimney-top.  The  edifice,  when  completed, 
presented  a  rather  striking  appearance." 


MR.    COWDRICk's    fate.  1 69 

"  What  did  the  surviving  relatives  have  to  say  .'' " 

"  They  were  indignant,  of  course ;  but  as  the 
courts  decided  that  the  petrifactions,  without 
doubt,  were  part  of  the  real  estate,  and  were  in- 
cluded in  the  title-deeds,  they  could  do  nothing  but 
remonstrate,  and  Tom  paid  no  attention  to  that." 

"Then  it  is  your  professional  opinion,"  said  Mr. 
Weems,  returning  to  the  subject  uppermost  in  his 
mind,  "that  the  Insurance  Company  will  not  pay, 
even  if  Mr.  Cowdrick  be  found  to  be  dead  ! " 

Mr.  Gunn  smiled  in  a  peculiar  manner,  and  then, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  said  :  "  Really,  you 
know,  Mr.  Weems,  there  is  no  use  of  discussing 
that  contingency.     Cowdrick  is  not  dead." 

"  How  do  you  know  ? " 

"  Why,  that  is  the  very  thing  I  called  to  see  you 
about.  I  am  on  the  detective  force  now.  Reg- 
ularly employed  by  the  police  authorities.  I  know 
exactly  where  Cowdrick  is,  and  I  have  had  him 
under  surveillance  from  the  very  first  day  that  he 
left  home." 

"  Why  haven't  you  arrested  him,  then  .'' " 

Mr.  Gunn  laughed,  "  Oh,  it  was  not  worth 
while.  I  knew  I  could  get  him  whenever  I  wanted 
him.  It  never  pays  to  be  in  a  hurry  with  such 
matters." 

"  A  heavy  reward  has  been  offered  for  him,  I 
believe,"  said  Mr.  Weems. 

*'  That's  just  it,"  replied  Mr.  Gunn. 


I/O  THE    CITY   OF    BURLESQUE. 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  Why,  the  authorities  express  their  anxiety  to 
catch  him,  by  offering  to  pay  five  hundred  dollars 
to  accomplish  the  feat.  Now,  the  question  is,  will 
Cowdrick's  friends  express  their  wish  that  he  shall 
not  be  caught,  by  going  a  little  higher,  say  up  to 
one  thousand  dollars  .■' " 

"  But  I  cannot  imagine  why  you  should  come  to 
me  with  such  a  proposition.  Why  don't  you  go  to 
Mrs.  Cowdrick  ? " 

"  I'd  rather  deal  with  a  man  ;  a  man  understands 
business  so  much  better.  And  as  you  are  inter- 
ested in  Cowdrick's  family,  going,  as  it  were,  to  be 
near  and  dear  to  him,  it  struck  me  that  maybe  you 
might  give  him  a  chance  to  go  off  quietly  upon  a 
trip  to  Europe,  or  somewhere,  and  save  him  from  a 
term  of  years  in  jail.     How  does  it  strike  you  ? " 

"Very  unfavorably.  In  the  first  place,  I  have 
not  enough  money  for  your  purpose ;  and,  in  the 
second  place,  if  I  did  have  it,  I  should  decline  to 
expend  it  for  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Cowdrick." 

"  Then  you  refuse  to  negotiate .-" " 

"  Yes,  positively." 

"Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Detective  Gunn,  rising, 
"I  merely  wished  to  ascertain  what  your  views 
were.  Pardon  me  for  interrupting  you.  No  of- 
fence, I  hope  .-*  Good  morning."  And  Mr.  Gunn 
withdrew,  while  Weems  closed  and  bolted  the  door. 

The  •  artist   had   hardly  seated  himself,  and  re- 


A    VISIT    FROM    LEONIE.  I7I 

sumed  the  work  of  depicting  the  Witch  of  Endor, 
when  another  visitor  knocked  at  the  door.  Mr. 
Weems  arose,  drew  the  bolt,  and  opened  the  door 
wide  enough  to  permit  him  to  look  out. 

"  May  I  come  in  .-* "  asked  Leonie  Cowdrick,  with 
an  effort  at  cheeriness  in  her  voice. 

"  Oh,  certainly.  Glad  to  see  you,"  replied  Mr. 
Weems,  admitting  her.  But  Mr.  Weems  did  not 
look  as  if  he  really  felt  very  glad. 

"  Pardon  me  for  calling,  Julius,"  she  said,  "  but 
I  think  I  must  have  left  my  satchel  when  I  was 
here  last  week.     I  cannot  find  it  anywhere." 

Poor  thing !  Any  excuse  would  have  sufficed  to 
account  for  her  coming  to  try  to  discover  why  it 
was  that  her  lover  had  not  visited  her  for  nearly  a 
week. 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is  here,"  said  Mr.  Weems ;  "  I 
am  sure  it  is  not,  or  I  should  have  seen  it." 

"  Then  it  is  lost  beyond  recovery,"  exclaimed 
Leonie,  sinking  into  a  chair,  and  fanning  herself, 
while  she  looked  very  hard  at  the  artist,  who  pre- 
tended-to  be  busy  with  his  picture. 

"  Haven't  heard  anything  from  your  father  yet,  I 
suppose  ? "  said  Mr.  Weems,  after  a  painful  interval 
of  silence. 

*'  Nothing  ;  absolutely  nothing.  Poor  mother  is 
nearly  distracted.  We  are  in  great  trouble.  And 
I  thought,  Julius,  you  would  have  been  with  us 
more  during  this  trial." 


1/2  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE, 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Weems,  "you  see  I  have  been 
so  very  busy,  and  I  have  had  so  many  engage- 
ments, that  I  could  not  iind  time  enough  to  call 
very  frequently." 

"It  looked  almost  like  neglect,"  said  Leonie, 
sadly.  "  I  could  hardly  bear  it."  And  she  put 
her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"  Confound  it ! "  said  Mr.  Weems  to  himself, 
"  now  there  is  going  to  be  a  scene." 

"  Mother  said  she  could  hardly  believe  that  you 
really  loved  me,"  continued  Leonie. 

"  She  said  that,  did  she .'' "  asked  Mr.  Weems, 
somewhat  bitterly.  "  Did  she  ask  you  if  you 
really  loved  me  ?  " 

"No,  Julius;  she  knows  that  I  do.  You  know 
it,  too." 

"  Love,"  said  the  artist,  "means  faith,  trust,  fair 
play,  and  candor,  among  other  things,  I  have  al- 
ways thought." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Julius  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  unkind,  Leonie  ;  but 
do  you  think  that  a  woman  who  truly  loved  a  man 
would  misrepresent  her  age  to  him  ;  or  that  she 
would  be  absolutely  silent  respecting  previous  en- 
gagements that  she  had  contracted  ?  How  do  I 
know  that  you  care  more  for  me  than  you  did  for 
Baxter  and  the  others  .■* " 

"  Mr.  Weems,"  exclaimed  Leonie,  indignantly, 
*'this  is  cruel.     It  is  worse,  —  it  is  shameful.     You 


A    QUARREL,  1 73 

seem  to  have  known  all  there  was  to  know,  without 
seeking  information  from  me." 

"  That  is  what  made  it  so  very  painful,"  replied 
Mr.  Weems,  trying  to  look  as  if  his  feelings  had 
experienced  a  terrible  wrench.  "  It  was  dreadful 
to  learn  from  outside  sources  what  I  should  iiave 
heard  from  your  own  lips.  When  a  woman  pre- 
tends to  give  me  her  heart,  I  expect  her  to  give  me 
her  confidence  also." 

"  Pretends  !  "  exclaimed  Leonie,  rising.  "  Pre- 
tends !  What  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  '  pretends ' ! 
Do  you  dare  to  insinuate  that  I  deliberately  de- 
ceived you  .'' " 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Weems,  calmly,  "  that  is  per- 
haps a  rather  violent  construction  of  my  language ; 
but  we  will  not  quarrel  over  phrases." 

"  I  did  not  think,"  said  Leonie,  tearfully  but 
vehemently,  "  that  I  should  be  insulted  when  I 
came  here,  —  insulted  in  the  midst  of  my  grief.  It 
is  unmanly,  sir !    It  is  cowardly  !"    It  is  infamous ! " 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  take  that  view  of  it.  I  did 
not  intend  to  be  discourteous,  I  am  sure.  Pray 
pardon  me  if  I  was  so.  It  is  clear,  however,  that, 
after  what  has  passed,  we  can  hardly  sustain .  our 
former  relation  to  each  other." 

"I  understand  you,  sir,"  replied  Leonie,  scorn- 
fully ;  "  I  fully  realize  your  meaning.  You  intended 
at  the  outset  to  break  our  engagement.  Well,  sir, 
it  is  broken.     I  am  glad  to  break  it.     I  regard  you 


174  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

with  scorn  and  contempt.     Hereafter  we  shall  be 
as  strangers  to  each  other." 

"  I  submit  to  your  decision,"  returned  the  artist. 
"  But —  but,  of  course,  you  will  return  my  letters  ? " 

Leonie  laughed  a  wild  and  bitter  laugh,  and, 
gathering  up  her  skirts  as  if  she  feared  contamina- 
tion, she  swept  haughtily  from  the  room,  without 
speaking  another  word. 

"  That  is  settled,  at  any  rate  !  said  Mr.  Weems, 
as  he  closed  the  door.  "  That  is  just  what  I  wanted. 
I  can't  afford  to  marry  poverty.  But  it  is  a  bad 
business  about  those  letters  of  mine  !  I  wonder  if 
she  intends  to  use  them  against  me.^"  And  Mr. 
Weems,  relighting  his  pipe,  sat  down  in  his  easy- 
chair  to  make  a  mental  review  of  the  situation. 

Mr.  Weems  was  not  permitted  to  remain  long  in 
doubt  respecting  the  intentions  of  Miss  Covvdrick. 
Upon  the  very  next  day  he  received  from  Messrs. 
Pullock  and  Shreek,  attorneys,  formal  notice  that 
Miss  Leonie  Cowdrick  had  authorized  them  to 
bring  a  suit  against  him  for  breach  of  promise  of 
marriage,  the  claim  for  pecuniary  damages  being 
laid  at  thirty  thousand  dollars. 

Mr.  Weems  regarded  the  proceeding  with  not  a 
little  alarm  ;  but,  upon  consulting  his  lawyer,  Mr. 
Porter,  and  detailing  to  him  the  conversation  be- 
tween the  artist  and  Leonie  at  the  time  of  the  rup- 
ture, Mr.  Weems  was  assured  that  he  could  make 
an  excellent  defence  upon  the  theory  that  the  lady 


LAW.  175 

had  broken  the  engagement ;  and  he  was  strongly 
advised  to  permit  the  case  to  go  to  trial. 

It  did  so  right  speedily  ;  for  the  attorneys  for  the 
plaintiff  secured  for  it  an  early  place  upon  the  list, 
and  they  manifested  a  disposition  to  push  the  de- 
fendant in  the  most  unmerciful  manner  permitted 
by  the  law. 

When  the  case  was  called  for  trial,  Mr.  Weems's 
lawyer  moved  for  a  postponement ;  and  he  pleaded, 
argued,  fought,  and  begged  for  his  motion  as  if  the 
life  of  his  client  and  his  own  happiness  were  staked 
upon  a  brief  delay.  As  Mr.  Weems  was  quite 
ready  to  proceed,  he  could  not  imagine  why  there 
should  be  such  earnest  contention  respecting  this 
point.  But,  of  course,  it  was  the  regular  profes- 
sional thing  to  do.  Mr.  Weems's  lawyer  did  not 
really  want  a  continuance.  He  merely  cared  to 
put  himself  right  upon  the  record  by  conducting 
the  performance  in  the  customary  manner. 

Messrs.  Pullock  and  Shreek,  counsel  for  the 
plaintiff,  resisted  the  motion  vigorously.  When 
Mr.  Shreek  arose  to  address  the  court,  with  regard 
to  it,  the  unpractised  spectator  would  have  sup- 
posed that  the  learned  counsel  was  amazed  as  well 
as  shocked  at  the  conduct  of  the  defence  in  asking 
that  the  arm  of  justice  should  be  stayed,  even  for  a 
week,  from  visiting  punishment  upon  the  monster 
who  was  now  called  to  answer  for  his  offences.  It 
seemed  really  to  grieve  Mr.  Shreek,  to  distress  and 


176  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

hurt  him,  that  the  counsel  for  the  defence,  a  mem- 
ber of  an  honorable  profession,  and  a  man  who, 
upon  ordinary  occasions,  had  the  respect  of  society 
and  the  confidence  of  his  fellow-creatures,  should 
so  far  set  at  defiance  all  considerations  of  propriety, 
all  sense  of  what  was  due  to  the  lovely  sufferer  who 
came  here  for  protection  and  redress,  and  all  the 
demands  of  justice,  honor,  and  decency,  as  to  try 
to  keep  the  hideous  facts  of  this  case  even  for  a 
time  from  the  attention  of  an  intelligent  and  sym- 
pathetic jury. 

Mr.  Shreek,  as  he  brought  his  remarks  to  a  close, 
was  so  deeply  moved  by  the  scandalous  nature  of 
the  conduct  of  counsel  for  the  defence,  that  Mr. 
Weems  was  disposed  to  believe  that  the  breach  be- 
tween them  was  final  and  irreparable  ;  but  a  moment 
later,  when  Judge  Winker  decided  that  the  trial 
must  proceed  at  once,  Mr.  Weems  was  surprised  to 
perceive  his  lawyer  and  Mr.  Shreek  chatting  and 
laughing  together  precisely  as  if  Mr.  Shreek  had 
not  regarded  Mr.  Porter's  behavior  with  mingled 
horror  and  disgust. 

In  selecting  the  jurymen,  the  manifest  purpose 
of  the  lawyers  upon  both  sides  was  to  reject  every 
man  of  ordinary  intelligence,  and  to  prefer  the  per- 
sons who  seemed,  from  their  appearance,  least 
likely  to  possess  the  power  of  reaching  a  rational 
conclusion  upon  any  given  subject.  And  when  the 
jury  had   been    obtained,  Mr.  Weems,  looking  at 


COWDRICK    VS.    WEEMS,  1 7/ 

them,  thought  that  he  had  never,  in  all  his  life,  seen 
twelve  more  stupid-looking  men. 

Leonie  Cowdrick.  came  in  as  the  case  opened,  and 
took  a  seat  close  by  Mr,  PuUock.  She  was  dressed 
with  exquisite  taste,  and  Mr.  Weems  was  really 
surprised  to  perceive  that  she  seemed  quite  pretty. 

Her  face  was  partly  covered  by  a  veil,  and  in  her 
hand  she  carried  a  kerchief,  with  which  occasionally 
she  gently  touched  her  eyes. 

It  was  clear  enough  that  Mr.  Pullock  had  her  in 
training  for  the  purpose  of  producing  effects  upon 
the  jury,  for  whenever  during  the  proceedings  any- 
thing of  a  pathetic  nature  was  developed,  Mr.  Pul- 
lock signalled  her,  and  at  once  her  handkerchief 
went  to  her  face. 

The  trial  endured  through  two  days,  and  much 
of  the  time  was  occupied  by  wrangles,  squabbles, 
and  fierce  recriminations  between  the  lawyers,  who, 
after  working  themselves  into  furious  passion,  and 
seeming  ready  to  fall  upon  each  other  and  tear 
each  other  to  pieces,  invariably  resumed  their 
friendly  intercourse  during  the  recesses,  and  ap- 
peared ready  to  forgive  and  forget  all  the  injuries 
of  the  past. 

One  of  the  jurymen  was  asleep  during  the  larger 
portion  of  the  sessions  upon  both  days ;  two  others 
paid  no  attention  to  the  evidence,  but  persistently 
gaped  about  the  court-room,  and  the  remainder 
seemed  to  consider  the  quarrels  between  the  coun- 


178  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

sel  as  the  only  matters  of  genuine  importance  in 
the  case.  During  the  first  day  Mr.  Detective 
Gunn  came  in,  and  seeing  Mr.  Weems,  went  over 
to  whisper  in  his  ear  that  Cowdrick  had  been 
arrested,  and  would  reach  town  upon  the  morrow. 

"  We  had  to  take  the  reward,"  said  Gunn.  "  Not 
one  of  his  friends  would  give  any  more.  It's  a 
pity  for  the  old  man,  too !  I  see  well  enough  now 
why  you  wouldn't  lend  a  hand."  And  Mr.  Gunn 
looked  toward  Leonie,  and  laughed. 

When  Mr.  Porter  was  not  engaged  in  examining 
or  cross-examining  a  witness,  he  addressed  his  at- 
tention to  the  task  of  getting  upon  terms  of  jolly 
good-fellowship  with  the  members  of  the  jury  who 
remained  awake.  He  sat  near  to  the  foreman,  and 
he  was  continually  passing  jokes  to  that  official, 
with  the  back  of  his  hand  to  his  mouth — jokes 
which  the  foreman  manifestly  relished,  for  he  al- 
ways sent  them  further  along  in  the  jury-box. 

This  mirthfulness  appeared  to  have  a  very  de- 
pressing effect  upon  Mr.  Pullock,  for  whenever  he 
observed  it  he  assumed  a  look  of  deep  mournful- 
ness,  as  if  it  distressed  him  beyond  measure  that 
any  one  should  have  an  impulse  to  indulge  in  lev- 
ity in  the  presence  of  the  unutterable  woe  which 
had  made  the  life  of  his  fair  but  heart-broken  client 
simply  a  condition  of  hopeless  misery.  And  while 
the  reckless  jurymen  laughed,  Mr.  Pullock  would 
shake  his  head  sadly,  seeming  to  feel  as  if  Justice 


PORTER    AND    SHREEK.  1/9 

had  expanded  her  wings  and  fled  forever  from  the 
tribunals  of  man  ;  and  then  he  would  nudge  the 
lovely  victim  by  his  side,  as  a  hint  for  her  to  hoist 
her  handkerchief  as  another  signal  to  the  jury  that 
she  '^as  in  distress. 

But  Mr.  Porter's  humor,  brutal  and  unfeeling 
though  it  might  be,  could  not  be  restrained.  Par- 
ticularly did  many  of  the  points  in  the  evidence 
offered  by  the  plaintiff  impress  him  ludicrously ; 
and  at  times,  when  Mr.  Shreek  was  developing 
what  he  evidently  regarded  as  a  fact  of  high  and 
solemn  importance,  Mr.  Porter  would  wink  at  the 
foreman,  and  begin  to  writhe  upon  his  chair  in  his 
efforts  to  restrain  himself  from  violating  the  deco- 
rum of  the  Temple  of  Justice  by  bursting  into  up- 
roarious laughter. 

These  rather  scandalous  attempts  to  convey  to 
the  jurymen  who  were  awake  Mr.  Porter's  theory 
that  the  testimony  for  the  prosecution  was  non- 
sense of  the  most  absurd  description,  and  to  im- 
press thera  with  the  belief  that  when  Mr.  Porter's 
turn  came,  he  would  knock  it,  so  to  speak,  higher 
than  a  kite,  provoked  Mr.  Shreek  to  such  an  ex- 
tent, that,  finally,  he  stopped  short  in  his  exami- 
nation of  a  witness,  to  snarl  out  to  Mr.  Porter :  — 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  I  don't  notice  any- 
thing in  the  testimony  that  is  so  very  funny  ! " 

"The  muscles  of  my  face  are  my  own,"  rejoined 
Mr.  Porter,  "  and  I  will  use  them  as  I  please." 


l80  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

"  But  you  have  no  right  to  divert  the  attention 
of  the  jury  by  your  buffoonery ! "  replied  Mr. 
Shreek,  angrily. 

"  I  will  laugh  when,  and  how,  and  at  what  I 
please,  "  said  Mr.  Porter.  "  I  shall  not  accept  any 
dictation  from  you.  It's  not  my  fault  if  you  have 
a  ridiculous  case  ! " 

"  I  will  show  you  how  ridiculous  it  is  before  I  get 
through,"  answered  Mr.  Shreek. 

"  I  know  all  about  it  already  ! "  said  Mr.  Porter. 

Then  Mr.  Shreek  proceeded  with  his  examina- 
tion, and  Mr.  Porter  laughed  almost  out  loud  two 
or  three  times,  merely  to  show  the  jury  that  he  re- 
garded Mr.  Shreek's  remonstrance  with  positive 
contempt.  But  it  must  be  confessed  that  Mr.  Por- 
ter's mirthfulness,  in  this  instance,  seemed  to  lack 
heartiness  and  spontaneity. 

But  when  Mr.  Porter's  turn  came  to  address  the 
jury,  his  sense  of  humor  had  become  completely 
benumbed,  while  thac  of  Mr.  Shreek  had  under- 
gone really  abnormal  development ;  for  Mr.  Porter 
could  hardly  attempt  to  plunge  into  pathos,  or  to 
permit  his  unfettered  imagination  to  take  a  little 
flight,  without  Mr.  Shreek's  humorous  susceptibili- 
ties being  aroused  in  such  a  manner  that  the  clos- 
ure of  his  mouth  with  his  handkerchief  alone  pre- 
vented him  from  offending  the  dignity  of  the  Court. 

Mr.  Porter's  appeal  to  the  jury  in  behalf  of  his 
client  was  based  upon   his  asseveration   that   this 


MR.    PORTER   TO    THE   JURY,  l8l 

was  the  most  intelligent  jury  that  he  had  ever  had 
the  honor  of  addressing,  and  upon  his  solemn 
conviction  that  the  jurymen  not  only  represented 
accurately  the  most  respectable  portion  of  the 
community,  but  that,  as  upon  this  occasion  the 
jury  system  itself  was  upon  trial  to  prove  whether 
it  truly  was  the  bulwark  of  liberty,  that  barrier 
against  injustice  and  oppression  which  it  was  vaun- 
ted to  be,  so  this  jury  were,  it  might  be  said,  called 
upon  to  determine  whether  the  system  was  to  re- 
tain the  respect  and  confidence  of  mankind  or  to 
be  branded  by  public  sentiment  as  a  wretched  fail- 
ure, and  to  be  regarded  in  the  future  by  all  honor- 
able men  with  loathing  and  contempt. 

As  two  of  the  jurymen  happened  to  be  Irishmen, 
and  one  of  them  was  a  member  of  the  Odd  Fel- 
lows' Society,  Mr.  Porter  did  not  neglect  to  allude 
to  the  circumstance  that  Mr.  Weems's  great-grand- 
father was  born  in  Ireland  ;  and  the  learned  coun- 
sel took  occasion  to  speak  with  indignant  warmth 
of  the  wrongs  that  have  been  endured  by  Ireland, 
and  to  express  his  deep  sympathy  with  her  unfor- 
tunate and  suffering  people. 

Of  the  noble  aims  and  splendid  achievements  of 
the  Odd  Fellows'  Society,  it  was  hardly  necessary 
for  Mr.  Porter  to  speak  at  length.  He  could  never 
hope  to  command  language  of  sufficient  force  to 
explain  his  appreciation  of  the  services  rendered  to 
Society  by   this  invaluable   organization  ;  but  the 


1 82  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

fact  that  both  he  and  his  client  had  for  years  be- 
longed to  the  sacred  brotherhood,  to  which  they 
gave  their  energies  and  their  devotion,  was  a  suf- 
ficient guarantee  of  the  strength  of  their  affection 
for  it. 

In  concluding,  Mr.  Porter  merely  desired  to  di- 
rect the  attention  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  jury  to 
the  fact  that  if  designing  women  were  to  be  per- 
mitted to  decoy  unsuspecting  men  into  contracts 
of  marriage  merely  for  the  purpose  of  securing  by 
artful  means  repudiation  of  the  contract,  so  that 
the  ground  would  be  laid  for  a  demand  for  money, 
then  no  man  was  safe,  and  no  one  could  tell  at 
what  moment  he  might  fall  into  a  snare  laid  for 
him  by  an  unprincipled  adventuress.  Mr,  Porter 
then  expressed  his  entire  confidence  in  the  inten- 
tion of  the  jury  to  give  a  verdict  for  his  client,  and 
he  sat  down  with  a  feeling  that  he  had  discharged 
his  duty  in  an  effective  manner. 

Mr,  Shreek,  in  reply,  observed  that  he  should 
begin  with  the  assertion  that  in  two  particulars 
this  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  cases  that  it 
had  ever  been  his  fortune  to  try.  In  the  first  place, 
he  was  unable  to  refer  to  an  occasion,  during  more 
than  twenty  years'  experience  at  the  bar,  when  he 
had  had  the  honor  of  addressing  a  jury  so  intelli- 
gent and  so  worthy  of  being  entrusted  with  inter- 
ests of  the  very  highest  character  as  this  one  was  ; 
and  never  had  he  felt  so  much  confidence  as  he  now 


MR.    SHREEk's    address.  1 83 

felt  when  he  came  before  these  highly-cultivated, 
keenly  sagacious,  and  thoroughly  representative 
gentlemen  to  ask  for  justice,  simple  justice,  for  an 
unhappy  woman.  In  the  second  place,  while  it  had 
fallen  to  his  lot  to  witness  more  than  one  painful 
and  repulsive  scene,  more  than  one  example  of  the 
capacity  of  human  beings  for  reaching  the  deepest 
depths  of  degradation,  in  their  efforts  to  rob  Jus- 
tice of  her  own,  and  to  make  her  very  name  a  by- 
word and  a  reproach  among  the  wise  and  the  good, 
he  had  never  yet  received  so  violent  a  shock  as  that 
which  came  to  him  to-day,  when,  with  mortification 
and  grief,  he  had  heard  a  member  of  the  bar,  sworn 
to  seek  to  uphold  the  sanctity  of  the  law  and.  the 
honor  of  a  proud  profession,  not  only  misrepresent 
the  truth  most  villanously,  but  so  far  forget  his 
manhood  as  to  stoop  to  insult,  to  revile,  to  smite 
with  a  ribald  and  envenomed  tongue,  a  fair  and 
noble  woman,  who  already  bent  beneath  an  awful 
load  of  domestic  sorrow,  and  whose  only  fault  was 
that  she  had  come  here  to  seek  redress  for  an  in- 
jury the  depth  of  which  no  tongue  could  tell,  the 
agony  of  which  the  imagination  of  him  who  has 
not  fathomed  all  the  mystery  of  a  woman's  love 
could  never  hope  to  realize.  He  would  only  say, 
in  dismissing  this  most  distressing  and  humiliating 
portion  of  the  subject,  that  he  left  the  offender  to 
the  punishment  of  a  conscience  which,  hardened 
and  seared  though  it  was,  still  must  have  in  store 


184  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

for  him  pangs  of  remorse  of  which  he,  Mr.  Shreek, 
trembled  to  think. 

The  learned  counsel  for  the  plaintiff  asked  the 
gentlemen  of  the  jury  to  review  with  him  the  facts 
of  the  case,  as  presented  to  them  by  the  evidence. 

Already  they  knew  something  of  the  trustfulness 
and  confidence  of  woman's  nature  ;  their  experi- 
ence within  the  sacred  privacy  of  the  domestic 
circle  had  taught  them  that  when  a  woman  gave 
her  affection,  she  gave  it  wholly,  never  doubting, 
never  suspecting,  that  the  object  of  it  might  be 
unworthy  to  wear  so  priceless  a  jewel.  Such  a 
creature,  —  the  peerless  being  of  whom  the  poet  had 
eloquently  said,  that  Earth  was  a  Desert,  Eden  was 
a  Wild,  Man  was  a  Savage,  until  Woman  smiled  — 
was  peculiarly  exposed  to  the  wiles  of  artful  and 
unscrupulous  men,  who,  urged  by  those  Satanic 
impulses  which  appear  in  some  men  as  unquestion- 
able proof  of  the  truthfulness  of  the  Scriptural 
theory  of  demoniac  possession,  should  attempt  to 
gain  the  prize  only  to  trample  it  ruthlessly  in  the 
dust. 

In  this  instance  the  destroyer  came  to  find  a 
pure  and  beautiful  love,  with  its  tendrils  ready  to 
cling  fondly  to  some  dear  object.  By  honeyed 
phrases,  by  whispered  vows  so  soon  to  be  falsified, 
by  tender  glances  from  eyes  which  revealed  none 
of  the  desperate  wickedness  of  the  soul  within,  by 
all  the  arts  and  devices  employed  upon  such  occa- 


MR.    SHREEK's    address.  1 85 

sions,  the  defendant  had  persuaded  those  tendrils  to 
cling  to  him,  to  entwine  about  him.  Artless,  unso- 
phisticated, unlearned  in  the  ways  of  the  sinful 
world,  the  beautiful  plaintiff  had  listened  and  be- 
lieved ;  and  for  a  few  short  weeks  she  was  happy 
in  the  fond  belief  that  this  reptile  who  had  crawled 
across  the  threshold  of  her  maiden's  heart  was  a 
prince  of  men,  an  idol  whom  she  might  worship 
with  unstinted  adoration. 

But  she  was  soon  to  be  undeceived.  Choosing 
the  moment  when  her  natural  defender  was  absent, 
when  his  coward's  deed  could  be  done  without  the 
infliction  of  condign  punishment  from  him  who 
loved  this  his  only  child  far  better  than  his  life,  the 
defendant,  scoffing  at  the  holiest  of  the  emotions, 
despising  the  precious  treasure  confided  to  his 
keeping,  and  gloating  over  the  misery  inflicted 
wantonly  and  savagely  by  his  too  brutal  hand,  cast 
off  her  love,  closed  his  ears  to  her  sighs,  observed 
unmoved  the  anguish  of  her  soul,  and  flung  her 
aside,  heart-broken  and  despairing,  while  he  passed 
coldly  on  to  seek  new  hearts  to  break,  new  lives  to 
blast  and  ruin,  new  victims  to  dupe  and  decoy  with 
his  false  tongue  and  his  vile  hypocrisy. 

In  support  of  his  assertions,  Mr.  Shreek  pro- 
posed to  read  to  the  jury  some  of  the  letters  ad- 
dressed by  the  defendant  to  the  plaintiff,  while  still 
he  maintained  an  appearance  of  fidelity  to  her ; 
and  the  jury  would  perceive  more  clearly  than  ever 


1 86  THE   CITY   OF   BURLESQUE. 

the  blackness  of  the  infamy  which  characterized 
the  defendant's  conduct,  when  at  last  he  showed 
himself  in  his  true  colors. 

Mr.  Shreek  then  produced  a  bundle  of  letters, 
which  had  been  placed  in  evidence  ;  and  when  he 
did  so,  the  newspaper  reporters  sharpened  their 
pencils,  the  somnolent  juryman  awoke,  the  judge 
laid  down  his  pen  to  listen.  Leonie  again  wiped 
her  eyes,  and  the  crowd  of  spectators  made  a  buzz, 
which  indicated  their  expectation  that  they  were 
going  to  hear  something  of  an  uncommonly  inter- 
esting nature. 

Mr.  Weems  alone  seemed  wholly  sad. 

Mr.  Shreek  would  first  invite  the  attention  of 
the  jury  to  a  letter,  dated  simply  "  Tuesday  morn- 
ing," and  signed  with  the  name  of  the  defendant. 
It  was  as  follows  :  — 

"  My  Sweet  Rosebud  "  (laughter  from  the  spectators),  — 
"  Before  me  lies  your  darling  little  letter  of  yesterday.  I 
have  read  it  over  and  over  again,  and  kissed  it  many  times." 
(Merriment  in  the  court-room.)  "Why  do  you  wish  that  you 
had  wings,  that  you  might  fly  away  and  be  at  rest  ?  "  ("  No 
wonder  she  wanted  wings,"  interjected  J^r.  Shreek.)  "Am 
I  not  all  you  wish?"  ("He  didn't  seem  to  be,"  said  Mr. 
Shreek.)  "  Cannot  I  make  you  perfectly  happy  ?  Oh,  how 
I  love  you,  my  sweet,  pretty,  charming  Rosebud  !  You  are 
all  in  all  to  me.  I  think  I  can  look  down  the  dim  vista  of 
time,  and  see  you  going  with  me  hand-in-hand  through  all 
the  long  and  happy  years."  ("  He  was  not  quite  so  short- 
sighted as  he  appears  to  be,"  said  Mr.  Shreek  ;  whereupon 
there  was  general  laughter.     Even  Leonie  laughed  a  little.) 


LOVE-LETTERS.  1 8/ 

**  And  now,  my  own  sweet  love  "  (laughter),  "  I  must  bid  you 
good-night.  I  send  you  a  thousand  kisses  from  your  own, 
ever  constant  Julius." 

"  Rosebud  !  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Shreek,  as  he 
folded  the  letter  away  and  took  out  another. 
"  Yes,  a  rosebud,  and  he  the  vile  canker-worm  that 
was  eating  away  its  life !  But  this  is  only  one  of 
many  such  effusions.  Upon  another  occasion,  he 
says  : 

"My  Birdie,"  (general  laughter,)  —  "This  morning  a 
blessing  came  to  me  by  the  hands  of  the  postman,  and  what 
do  you  think  ?  the  writer  did  not  sign  her  name,  and  I  am 
not  sure  whom  I  should  thank,  but  I  am  going  to  risk  thank- 
ing you,  my  own  dear,  loving  Leonie.  Why  do  you  call  me 
an  angel,  darling?"  ("  That,"  observed  Mr.  Shreek,  "was 
enough  to  astonish  him  !  "  And  then  everybody  laughed 
again.)  "  I  am  only  a  plain,  prosy  man,"  ("  A  close  shave  to 
the  truth,"  said  Mr.  Shreek,)  "  but  I  am  exalted  by  having 
your  love.  If  I  were  an  angel,  I  would  hover  over  you,  my 
sweet,"  ("  And  very  likely  drop  something  on  her,"  added 
Mr.  Shreek,)  "  and  protect  you.  You  ask  me  if  I  think  of 
you  often  !  Think  of  you,  Leonie  !  I  think  of  nothing 
else."  (Laughter.)  "You  are  always  in  my  mind;  and  if  I 
keep  on  loving  you  more  and  more,  as  I  am  doing,  I  shall 
die  with  half  my  love  untold."  (Laughter.  "Wonderful 
how  he  loved  her,  wasn't  it?"  remarked  Mr.  Shreek.) 
"  Again  I  send  you  a  million  kisses  "  (merriment),  "  and  a 
fond  good-night,  and  pleasant  dreams. 

"  Your  adoring  J." 

"  Observe,"  said  Mr.  Shreek,  taking  out  still 
another  letter,  "  how  he  mocked  her  !     How  hollow, 


188  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE, 

how  infamous  all  of  that  sounds,  in  view  of  his 
subsequent  treachery ! " 

Here  Miss  Cowdrick  bowed  her  head  and  wept, 
and  Mr.  Weems  looked  as  if  he  felt  that  death  at 
the  stake  would  be  mere  pastime  in  comparison 
with  this  experience. 

"  We  now  come,"  said  Mr.  Shreek,  "  to  letter 
number  three  —  a  document  which  reveals  this 
moral  monster  in  even  a  more  hideous  light." 

"My  Precious  One"  (great  laughter)  —  "How  can  I 
ever  thank  you  for  the  trouble  you  have  taken  to  make  me 
those  lovely  slippers  ?  They  are  two  sizes  too  small  for  me  " 
(laughter);  "but  I  can  look  at  them  and  kiss  them"  ("He 
was  a  tremendous  kisser  in  his  way,  you  observe,"  said  the 
learned  counsel),  "  and  think  of  you  meantime.  I  could  not 
come  to  see  you  last  evening,  for  I  sprained  my  ankle  ;  but 
I  looked  at  your  picture  and  kissed  it "  (laughter.  "  At  it 
again,  you  see,"  said  Mr,  Shreek);  "and  I  read  over  your 
old  letters.  There  is  a  knock  at  my  door  now,  and  I  must 
stop.  But  I  will  say,  I  love  you.  Oh,  how  I  love  you  !  my 
life  and  my  light.  Fondly  your  own  Julius." 

"But,"  continued  the  eloquent  counsel  for  the 
plaintiff,  "  this  false  lover,  this  maker  of  vows  that 
were  as  idle  as  the  whispering  of  the  summer 
wind,  did  not  always  write  prose  to  the  unhappy 
lady  whom  he  had  deceived.  Sometimes  he  breathed 
out  his  bogus  affection  through  the  medium  of 
verse.  Sometimes  he  invoked  the  sacred  Muse  to 
help  him  to  shatter  the  heart  of  this  loving  and 
trustful  woman.     With  the  assistance  of  a  rhyming 


LOVE-VERSES.  1 89 

dictionary,  or  perhaps  having,  with  a  bold  and  law- 
less Jiand,  filched  his  sweets  from  some  true  poet 
who  had  felt  the  impulses  of  a  genuine  passion,  he 
wrote  and  sent  to  my  lovely  but  unfortunate  client 
the  following  lines : 

"  Sweetheart,  if  I  could  surely  choose 

The  aptest  word  in  passion's  speech  "  — 

"  That,"  said  the  counsel,  "  indicates  that  he 
would  steal  his  poetry  if  he  could." 

"  And  all  its  subtlest  meaning  use, 

With  eloquence  your  soul  to  teach  ; 
Still,  forced  by  its  intensity, 
Sweetheart,  my  love  would  voiceless  be  !  " 

(Laughter.) 

"And  heartless,  as  well  as  voiceless,"  added  the 

counsel. 

"Sweetheart,  though  all  the  days  and  hours 
Sped  by,  with  love  in  sharpest  stress, 
To  find  some  reach  of  human  powers, 

Its  faintest  impulse  to  express. 
Till  Time  merged  in  Eternity, 
Sweetheart,  my  love  would  voiceless  be  ! " 

(Roars  of  laughter.) 

Mr.  Shreek  declared  that  he  would  read  no  more. 
It  made  his  heart  sick  —  professionally,  of  course  — 
to  peruse  these  revolting  evidences  of  man's  inhu- 
manity to  lovely  woman  ;  of  the  amazing  perfidy 
of  the  plaintiff,  Weems.  This  voiceless  lover,  who 
was  not  only  voiceless,  but  shameless,  feelingless, 


190  THE   CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

and  merciless  as  well,  was  now  before  them,  ar- 
raigned by  that  law  whose  foremost  function  was 
to  protect  the  weak,  and  to  punish  those  who  assail 
the  helpless.  It  rests  with  you,  gentlemen,  to  say 
whether  the  cry  for  help  made  to  that  law  by  this 
desolate  woman  with  the  lacerated  heart  shall  be 
made  in  vain.  So  far  as  Mr.  Shreek  was  con- 
cerned, he  felt  perfectly  certain  that  the  jury  would 
award  to  his  client  the  full  amount  of  damages  —  a 
miserable  recompense,  at  the  best  —  for  which  she 
sued. 

The  Judge's  charge  was  very  long,  very  dull,  and 
full  of  the  most  formidable  words,  phrases,  and 
references.  Those  who  were  able  to  follow  it 
intelligently,  however,  perceived  that  it  really 
amounted  to  nothing  more  than  this  :  If  you  find 
the  defendant  guilty,  it  is  your  duty  to  bring  in 
a  verdict  to  that  effect ;  while,  upon  the  other 
hand,  if  you  find  him  not  guilty,  you  are  required 
to  acquit  him. 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  jury  retired, 
and  the  court  waited  for  the  verdict.  At  six-thirty, 
the  jury  sent  to  ask  that  the  love-letters  might  be 
given  to  them ;  and  it  was  whispered  about  that 
one  of  the  jurymen  had  obtained  the  impression, 
somehow,  that  they  were  written  by  Miss  Cow- 
drick  to  Weems.  At  a  quarter  past  seven,  the  jury 
wanted  to  know  if  they  could  have  cigars ;  and 
Mr.  Porter  sent  them  a  couple  of  bundles  at  his 


THE  VERDICT.  I9I 

own  expense.  At  eight,  word  came  out  that  one 
of  the  jurymen,  evidently  the  slumberer,  wanted  a 
question  of  fact  cleared  up:  Was  the  man  suing 
the  woman,  or  the  woman  the  man  ?  This  having 
been  settled,  the  court  waited  until  half  past  eight, 
when,  amid  much  excitement,  the  jury  came  in,  and 
disappointed  everybody  with  the  announcement 
that  it  was  quite  impossible  for  them  to  agree. 

Mr.  Porter  whispered  to  Mr.  Weems  that  there 
was  an  Irishman  upon  that  jury  whom  he  felt  con- 
fident of  from  the  first. 

The  judge  went  over  the  case  again  briefly, 
but  learnedly  and  vaguely,  and  sent  the  jury  back. 
At  nine  o'clock  the  jury  came  into  court  a 
second  time,  and  presented  a  verdict  of  guilty, 
imposing  damages  to  the  amount  of  five  thousand 
dollars. 

There  was  an  outburst  of  applause ;  Leonie 
leaned  her  head  upon  the  breast  of  Mr.  Pullock, 
and  wept  from  mingled  feelings  of  joy  and  grief. 
Mr.  Shreek  observed  to  Mr.  Porter,  that  "this  is 
all  we  ever  expected ; "  and  Mr.  Porter  said  to 
Weems  that  he  was  lucky  to  get  off  so  easily  ;  for 
he,  Porter,  had  anticipated  a  much  worse  result. 

Poor  Weems  alone  seemed  to  regard  the  ver- 
dict with  less  than  perfect  satisfaction  ;  and  he 
was  no  better  pleased  next  morning,  when  Colonel 
Hoker's  Crab  and  all  the  other  papers  came  out 
with   reports   of   the   trial    in    flaring    type,    and 


192  THE    CITY   OF    BURLESQUE. 

with  the  entire  batch   of  love-letters,  poetry  and 
all,  in  full. 

The  journals  also  contained  an  announcement 
that  Mr.  Cowdrick  had  been  captured  and  brought 
home,  and  had  at  once  been  released  upon  bail. 


MR.    COWDRICK  S    RETURN.  I93 


CHAPTER  V. 

MR.    COWDRICK's    RETURN.  MR.    WEEMS    TAKES    A 

NEW    VIEW   OF    HIS    POSITION.  JUSTICE. 

R.  COWDRICK  again  sat  in  his  easy- 
chair,  in  his  library,  before  the  sham  fire, 
and  with  him  sat  his  wife  and  daughter. 
They  were  talking  of  the  trial  of  Mr.  Cowdrick, 
which  was  to  begin  on  the  morrow. 

"  It  is  very  disagreeable,  of  course,"  said  Mr. 
Cowdrick ;  "  but  in  this  life  we  have  to  take  the 
bitter  with  the  sweet." 

"But,  oh,  papa,"  said  Leonie,  '' how  dreadful  it 
will  be  if  the  verdict  goes  against  you.  Do  you 
think  they  would  actually  send  a  man  of  your  po- 
sition to  a  horrid  prison  .''  " 

"  Leonie  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cowdrick,  "  I  am 
surprised  at  your  speaking  of  such  things.  Pray 
don't  do  it  again.     My  nerves  will  not  stand  it." 

"You  need  not  be  alarmed,  my  dear  child,"  said 
Mr.  Cowdrick,  smiling.  "  My  friends  have  arranged 
things  comfortably  for  me  with  the  prosecuting  at- 


194  THE   CITY   OF    BURLESQUE. 

torney,  and  the  other  authorities.  I  had  an  offer 
made  to  me  to  have  the  jury  packed  in  my  interest, 
but  I  was  assured  that  it  was  unnecessary,  and,  be- 
sides, I  felt  that  it  would  perhaps  be  wrong  for  me 
to  descend  to  corruption." 

*'  It  is  a  terrible  experience  at  the  best,"  said 
Mrs.  Cowdrick ;  "but  there  is  some  satisfaction  in 
the  reflection  that  we  are  not  reduced  to  absolute 
poverty." 

"  That  is  my  greatest  consolation,"  rejoined  Mr. 
Cowdrick.  "  Pinyard  tells  me  that  I  may  count  on 
saving  at  least  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars from  the  wreck ;  invested  in  good  securities,  too." 

"  Then  we  can  go  to  a  watering-place,  next  sum- 
mer, as  usual  ? "  asked  Leonie. 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  And  can  we  keep  our  carriage  and  our  servants, 
and  everything,  just  as  before  ?" 

"  Certainly  ;  there  will  be  no  difference." 

Leonie  reflected  for  a  moment,  and  then  sighed 
heavily. 

"  And  I  think  very  likely,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick, 
"  that  my  poor  little  girl  can  have  her  lover  back 
again,  if  she  wants  him,  too." 

"  Papa,  what  do  you  mean  } "  asked  Leonie. 

"Why,  I  commissioned  a  man  named  Gunn,  in 
whom  I  have  some  confidence,  to  visit  Weems,  and 
to  sound  him,  to  ascertain  how  he  felt  with  regard 
to  the  result  of  your  suit." 


A    CHANGE    OF    VIEWS.  195 

"Well?" 

"  Gunn  reports  to  me  that  Weems  feels  repent- 
ant ;  says  he  always  loved  you,  and  would  give 
anything  to  have  the  past  recalled." 

Here  Mr.  Cowdrick,  having  constructed  a  sturdy 
falsehood,  winked  at  his  wife  ;  and  Leonie  said  : 

"  Well,  papa,  I  don't  know  whether  I  am  quite 
willing  to  forgive  him,  but  I  confess  that  I  care 
more  for  Julius  than  for  any  other  person." 

"We  shall  see  what  can  be  done,"  remarked  Mr. 
Cowdrick.  "  And  now  you  must  excuse  me.  I 
have  to  go  to  meet  my  counsel  to  prepare  for  the 
trial ; "  and  Mr.  Cowdrick  withdrew. 

The  interview  between  Mr.  Weems  and  Mr. 
Benjamin  P.  Gunn,  to  which  Mr.  Cowdrick  alluded, 
was  conducted  upon  a  rather  different  basis  from 
that  indicated  by  the  banker  in  his  conversation 
with  Leonie. 

Mr.  Gunn,  upon  his  entrance  to  the  studio  of  the 
artist,  began  by  expressing  his  regret  at  the  issue 
of  the  breach  of  promise  suit. 

"Yes,  confound  it,"  said  Mr.  Weems;  "it  is 
hard,  isn't  it .-'  To  think  that  that  old  faded  flower 
of  a  girl  should  be  smart  enough  to  get  the  better 
of  me  in  such  a  manner  !  " 

"The  damages  are  heavy  too,"  said  Gunn, 
thoughtfully ;  "and  I  understand  that  she  is  firmly 
resolved  to  compel  you  to  pay  the  money." 

"  That  is  the  worst  of  it !     The  mortification  was 


196  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

bad  enough  ;  but  five  thousand  dollars  to  pay  on 
top  of  that !     Why,  it's  simply  awful." 

"The  amount  would  cover  the  price  of  a  good 
many  pictures,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  just  now  the  market  is  so  overloaded 
with  old  masters,  that  they  hardly  fetch  the  value 
of  the  canvas  they  are  painted  on.  A  house- 
painter  makes  more  money  than  an  artist." 

"  It  must  be  a  desire  for  revenge  that  induces  the 
lady  to  be  so  eager  for  the  money.     She  is  not  poor." 

"  I  guess  she  is.  Old  Cowdrick  will  have  to 
give  up  everything,  I  suppose." 

Mr.  Gunn  smiled,  and  looked  wise.  Then  he 
said, '"  Mr.  Weeras,  I'll  let  you  into  a  secret  if  you 
will  keep  it  to  yourself." 

"  I  will,  certainly." 

"Well,  sir,  I  know,  —  I  don't  merely  think,  —  I 
know  that  Cowdrick  is  going  to  come  out  of  this 
thing  with  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  million.  He'll  be 
just  as  comfortable  as  ever," 

"  That  is  nearly  incredible." 

"  It  is  the  truth,  at  any  rate  ;  and  I  can  prove  it." 

"  But  how  about  his  crimes  }  He  is  tolerably 
certain  to  go  to  prison." 

"  What,  Cowdrick  }  Cowdrick  go  to  prison  .-* 
Not  a  bit  of  it !  He  is  too  respectable.  That  has 
all  been  fixed  in  advance,  unless  I  am  misinformed." 

Mr.  Weems  reflected  in  silence  for  a  few  mo- 
ments.    Then  Mr.  Gunn,  rising  to  go,  said,  — 


COMPROMISE.  197 

"  It  is  none  of  my  business,  sir,  of  course  ;  I  only 
came  in  to  give  you  the  facts  because  I  felt  friendly 
to  you.  But  if  I  had  my  choice  between  paying 
five  thousand  dollars  and  compromising  with  the 
plaintiff,  I  know  very  well  what  I  would  do,  partic- 
ularly if  the  plaintiff  would  rather  have  the  man 
than  the  money.  Good  morning,  Mr.  Weems  ; " 
and  Mr.  Gunn  withdrew. 

"A  quarter  of  a  million!"  said  Mr.  Weems  to 
himself,  as  he  sat  alone,  meditating  upon  the  situa- 
tion. "  What  a  fool  I  was.  I  might  have  known 
that  old  Cowdrick  would  take  care  of  himself  and 
soon  get  upon  his  legs  again.  I  believe  that  man 
Gunn  was  sent  here  to  feel  the  way  for  a  reconcil- 
iation, and  I  have  half  a  notion  to  attempt  one. 
I'll  make  a  movement  toward  it,  anyhow.  I'll  write 
a  letter  to  Cowdrick,  and  if  he  gets  out  of  the 
clutches  of  the  law  I  will  send  it  to  him,  and  see  if 
we  can't  make  up  the  quarrel." 

Then  Mr.  Weems  went  to  his  desk  and  penned 
the  following  epistle  : — 

"  Henry  P.  Cowdrick,  Esq. 

"Dear  Sir, —  I  write  to  you  with  much  diffidence  and 
with  deep  apprehension  as  to  the  resuh,  concerning  a  matter 
in  which  my  happiness  is  seriously  involved.  I  need  not  re- 
hearse the  facts  concerning  my  unfortunate  differences  with 
Leonie  ;  but  I  wish  to  say  that  I  shall  never  cease  to  regret 
that  a  mere  lovers'  quarrel,  which  should  have  been  forgotten 
and  forgiven  a  moment  afterwards,  should  have  caused,  under 
the  influence  of  senseless  anger,  a  breach  which,  I  fear,  is  now 


198  THE   CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

irreparable.  For  my  part,  reflection  upon  my  conduct  in  the 
business  makes  me  utterly  miserable,  for  I  cannot  hide  from 
myself,  and  I  will  not  attempt  to  hide  from  you,  that  my  af- 
fection for  your  daughter  has  lost  none  of  its  intensity  be- 
cause of  the  occurrences  of  which  I  have  spoken.  I  love  her 
now  as  fondly  as  I  ever  loved  her  ;  and  though  it  should  be 
ordained  by  fate  that  we  shall  never  meet  again,  I  shall  cher- 
ish her  image  in  my  heart  until  my  dying  day,  and  I  shall 
never  cease  to  breathe  earnest  petitions  for  her  happiness. 
"  Believe  me,  Yours  very  truly, 

"Julius  Weems." 

"That,"  said  Mr.  Weems,  "ought  to  bring  him 
to  terms,  if  he  really  means  business." 

Then  Mr.  Weems  folded  the  letter,  directed  it, 
and  slipped  it  into  his  pocket  to  await  the  result  of 
Mr.  Covvdrick's  trial. 

It  would  be  injudicious  to  linger  over  the  details 
of  Mr.  Cowdrick's  trial,  lest  we  should  have  a  sur- 
feit of  legal  proceedings.  Both  the  prosecution  and 
the  defence  were  conducted  with  vigor  and  ability, 
and  the  jury,  after  remaining  out  for  a  very  little 
while,  found  Mr.  Cowdrick  guilty  of  sundry  crimes 
and  misdemeanors  of  a  particularly  infamous 
character. 

When  the  verdict  had  been  presented,  a  singu- 
larly affecting  scene  ensued. 

Amid  a  silence  that  was  painful  in  its  intensity, 
the  prosecuting  attorney,  hardly  able  to  control  his 
emotion,  rose  to  move  that  sentence  be  passed 
upon  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.    In  doing  so,  he  took 


MR.    COWDRICK  S    TRIAL.  I99 

occasion  to  remark  that  the  prosecution  had  no  de- 
sire to  crush  to  the  earth  the  unfortunate  gentle- 
man whom  it  had  been  compelled,  in  the  perform- 
ance of  a  most  unpleasant  duty,  to  arraign  before 
the  tribunal  of  justice.  The  lesson  that  men  must 
not  betray  their  trusts,  and  -recklessly  misuse  the 
property  of  others,  had  been  plainly  taught  by  the 
conviction.  That  was  the  leading  purpose  of  the 
prosecution  ;  it  was  ample  fulfilment  of  the  demands 
of  the  law  and  of  society,  and  it  supplied  to  other 
men,  especially  to  the  young,  a  sufficiently  solemn 
warning  against  indulgence  in  extravagance  and  in 
unwise  speculation.  It  would  be  harsh  —  perhaps 
even  cruel — in  this  instance  to  inflict  a  severe  pen- 
alty, not  alone  because  of  the  high  social  standing 
of  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  but  because  it  was  clear 
enough  that  he  did  not  take  the  money  of  others 
solely  for  his  own  benefit,  but  for  the  advancement 
of  enterprises  in  which  others  were  interested  —  en- 
terprises which  seemed  to  him  likely  to  promote 
the  industrial  activity  of  the  country,  and  to  add 
largely  to  the  wealth  of  the  nation.  With  these 
remarks,  he  submitted  the  whole  matter  to  the  dis- 
cretion of  the  Court,  earnestly  hoping  that  his 
Honor  would  find  it  possible  to  give  to  the  prisoner 
an  opportunity  to  retrieve  the  past  by  his  future 
good  conduct. 

As  the  prosecuting  attorney  sat  down,  the  court- 
room was  bathed  in  tears. 


200  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

Then  the  leading  counsel  for  Mr.  Cowdrick  arose. 
It  was  a  moment  or  two  before  his  feelings  would 
permit  him  to  command  his  utterance ;  and  when, 
at  last,  he  was  able  with  a  broken  voice  to  speak, 
he  said  that  he  could  not  find  language  of  sufficient 
warmth  in  which  to  express  his  sense  of  the  justice, 
the  human  kindness,  the  frank  generosity  of  the 
prosecuting  attorney.  These  qualities,  as  here 
exhibited,  did  credit  to  his  head  and  heart,  and  en- 
titled him  to  the  commendation  of  the  wise  and  the 
good.  The  learned  counsel  should  never  for  a  mo- 
ment believe  his  client  to  be  guilty  of  that  of  which 
he  seemed  to  have  been  found  technically  guilty, 
and  he  could  add  little  to  the  fitting  and  eloquent 
words  that  had  just  been  spoken.  It  had  been 
written,  "Vengeance  is  Mine,"  and  it  was  not  for 
an  earthly  tribunal  to  seek  to  inflict  vengeance. 
His  client's  errors,  if  errors  they  really  were,  were 
of  the  head,  not  of  the  heart ;  and  he  was  sure  that 
the  Court  would  never  undertake  to  humiliate  this 
excellent  and  worthy  man,  who,  during  a  long  ca- 
reer, had  been  an  honored  citizen  of  the  community, 
by  even  approaching  a  sentence  which  might  make 
him  look  like  a  felon,  "  I  need  hardly  say  to  your 
Honor,"  continued  the  learned  counsel,  "that  to 
impose  the  extreme  penalty  provided  in  this  case 
would  not  only  close  the  doors  of  the  prison  upon 
this  estimable  citizen,  but  would  bring  desolation 
to  a  happy  home,  would  break  the  hearts  of  those 


THE    SENTENCE.  201 

who  are  dear  to  him,  and  would  achieve  no  good 
purpose  that  has  not  already  been  attained." 
Trusting  in  the  clemency  of  the  Court,  the  learned 
counsel  sat  down,  while  the  court-room  echoed  the 
sobs  of  the  spectators. 

The  judge,  wiping  his  eyes,  and  trying  hard  not 
to  give  way  to  his  feelings,  said,  — 

"  Mr.  Cowdrick  will  please  rise.  As  you  are 
aware,  Mr.  Cowdrick,  I  have  but  a  single  duty  to 
perform.  I  must  impose  the  sentence  as  it  is  pro- 
vided by  the  law.  I  remember  your  social  position, 
and  your  former  conduct  as  a  worthy  member  of 
society,  and  I  have  fully  estimated  the  importance 
of  the  suggestion  that  your  offences  were  perpe- 
trated largely  for  the  benefit  of  others.  It  gives 
me,  therefore,  great  pleasure  to  find  in  the  statute 
a  limitation  which  enables  me  to  inflict  a  penalty 
less  severe  than,  otherwise,  I  should  have  been 
compelled  to  inflict.  I  impose  upon  you  a  fine  of 
five  hundred  dollars,  as  provided  in  the  statute,  you 
to  stand  committed  until  the  fine  is  paid." 

As  the  judge  pronounced  the  sentence,  a  great 
cheer  went  up.  Mr.  Cowdrick's  counsel  paid  the 
fine  at  once,  and  Mr.  Cowdrick,  after  shaking  hands 
with  the  lawyers  and  receiving  the  apology  of  the 
prosecuting  attorney  for  pushing  him  so  hard,  took 
his  hat  and  walked  out  of  the  court-room  a  free  and 
happy  man. 

Then  a  new  jury  was  called  to  try  a  book-keeper, 


202  THE   CITY   OF   BURLESQUE. 

who,  because  his  salary  was  insufficient  for  the 
support  of  his  family,  had  stolen  three  hundred  dol- 
lars from  his  employer. 

The  prosecuting  attorney  was  unable  to  perceive 
anything  of  a  pathetic  nature  in  the  case,  and  when 
the  jury  promptly  brought  in  a  verdict  of  guilty, 
the  judge,  with  a  perfectly  dry  eye,  sentenced  the 
prisoner  to  incarceration  at  hard  labor  for  ten  years. 

Although  the  Goddess  of  Justice  is  blindfolded, 
she  has  sometimes  a  very  discriminating  sense  of 
the  relative  importance  of  sinners  who  come  to  her 
for  judgment. 


CONGRATULATIONS.  203 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CONGRATULATIONS.  —  RECONCILIATION.  —  TRUE 

LOVE    TRIUMPHANT.  THE    WEDDING.  THE 

END. 

^NE  of  the  first  of  Mr.  Cowdrick's  friends 
who  called  to  congratulate  him  upon  the 
result  of  the  painful  ordeal  to  which  he 
had  been  subjected  was  Father  Tunicle. 

"It  must  have  been,"  said  the  faithful  pastor,  "a 
terrible  strain  upon  a  man  of  delicate  sensibility  to 
sit  there,  uncertain  what  your  fate  would  be.  I 
sympathize  with  you  heartily,  and  rejoice  that  the 
end  was  not  worse." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  smiling. 
"  Life  is  full  of  sorrows  and  afflictions  for  all  of  us ; 
and  of  course  I  cannot  expect  to  escape  bearing  my 
share  of  them." 

"  No  ;  and  it  is  a  comfort  to  reflect  that  these 
troubles  are  sent  to  us  for  our  good.  I  shall  expect 
you  now  to  be  a  more  efficient  worker  than  ever  at 
St.  Cadmus's." 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied    Mr.  Cowdrick  reflect- 


204  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

ively.  "  Possibly  it  might  be  better,  all  things 
considered,  if  I  should  not  resume  my  official 
position  in  the  church." 

"  But,  really,  you  must,"  answered  Father  Tuni- 
cle.  "  You  are  still  a  member  of  the  vestry,  and 
matters  will  move  more  smoothly  now,  for  Yetts 
has  resigned.     He  was  the  thorn  in  my  side." 

"  Where  has  Yetts  gone  .■'  " 

"  I  believe  he  has  taken  a  pew  at  St.  Sepulchre's, 
which,  you  know,  is  extremely  Low  Church.  Poor 
Yetts !  He  has  fallen  very  far !  Do  you  know 
that  the  rector  of  St.  Sepulchre's  positively  will  not 
use  a  red  altar-cloth  on  martyrs'  days  ;  and  that  he 
walks  to  church  with  an  umbrella  upon  the  Festival 
of  St.  Swithin,  —  a  positive  insult  to  the  memory 
of  the  saint." 

"  Incredible  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Cowdrick. 

"  I  have  it  upon  good  authority.  Such  practices 
do  much  to  hinder  the  progress  of  the  work  of 
evangelization." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick. 

"And  speaking  of  that  work,"  continued  Father 
Tunicle,  "  I  want  to  obtain  a  little  pecuniary 
assistance  from  you.  I  have  just  prepared  for 
circulation  among  the  depraved  poor  a  little  tract 
upon  the  sufferings  of  St.  Blasius  of  Cappadocia, 
but  I  have  not  money  enough  to  print  it.  Can  you 
help  me } " 
.•'Certainly.     How  much  do  you  want.''" 


AFTER    THE    TRIAL.  20S 

"  Fifty  dollars  are  all  that  I  ought  to  ask  for. 
That  sum,  I  think,  will  enable  me  to  increase  the 
religious  fervor  of  the  poor  in  my  parish  to  a  notable 
extent." 

Mr.  Cowdrick  handed  the  money  to  the  devoted 
clergyman,  who  thereupon  withdrew. 

Another  early  caller  upon  Mr.  Cowdrick  was  an 
agent  of  the  Widows'  and  Orphans*  Life  Assurance 
Company,  in  which  the  banker  held  a  policy.  This 
gentleman,  representing  a  corporation  which  a  week 
before  was  preparing  to  take  legal  measures  to 
contest  Mrs.  Cowdrick's  claim,  brought  with  him 
the  Company's  last  annual  statement,  and  a  for- 
midable array  of  other  documents,  with  an  intent 
to  persuade  Mr.  Cowdrick  to  have  his  life  insured 
for  an  additional  twenty  thousand  dollars. 

Upon  the  second  day  after  Mr.  Cowdrick's 
release,  also,  the  De  Flukes  sent  to  Mrs.  Cowdrick 
an  invitation  to  a  kettle-drum,  together  with  a  note 
explaining  that  a  former  unfortunate  recall  of  an 
invitation  was  due  to  the  colossal  stupidity  of  a 
servant  who  had  since  been  dismissed. 

This  very  considerate  behavior  on  the  part  of  the 
De  Flukes  had  a  favorable  effect  upon  Mrs.  Cow- 
drick's spirits.  She  brightened  up  in  a  wonderful 
manner,  and  there  seemed  to  be  every  reason  for 
believing  that  her  load  of  sorrow  was  lifted  at  last. 

Colonel  Hoker,  writing  in  the  Crab  of  the  trial 
and  its  results,  explained  to  his  readers  that  the 


206  THE   CITY   OF   BURLESQUE. 

verdict  was  rather  technical  than  indicative  of 
intentional  wrong-doing,  and  he  congratulated  the 
community  that  one  of  its  most  enterprising  and 
valuable  citizens  had  succeeded  in  escaping  from 
the  toils  of  complicated  financial  transactions  in 
which  he  had  been  enveloped  by  injudicious  friends. 

Colonel  Hoker  was  disposed  to  criticise  with 
some  degree  of  severity  Coroner  McSorley's  absurd, 
not  to  say  wicked,  performances  with  the  unearthed 
bones  ;  but  the  violence  of  the  indignation  with 
which  he  contemplated  the  phenomenal  stupidity 
and  the  grasping  avarice  of  the  coroner,  with 
respect  to  the  remains  in  question,  was  greatly 
tempered  by  the  consideration  that  Coroner  Mc- 
Sorley's brother  was  sheriff  of  the  county,  with  an 
advertising  patronage  estimated  by  good  judges  to 
amount  to  not  less  than  fifty  thousand  dollars  a 
year. 

When  Mr.  Cowdrick  received  the  note  addressed 
to  him  by  Mr.  Weems,  he  replied  briefly,  asking  the 
artist  to  call  upon  him  at  his  residence  ;  and  when 
Mr.  Weems  did  so,  Mr.  Cowdrick  received  him 
with  gravity,  and  with  some  degree  of  coolness. 

"  Mr.  Weems,"  said  the  banker,  "  I  sent  for  you 
because  I  wished  to  discuss  with  you  the  matter 
referred  to  in  your  note  My  first  impulse  was  to 
take  no  notice  of  the  communication,  for  I  will  not 
conceal  from  you  that  your  treatment  of  my 
daughter  had  embittered  me  against  you  to  such 


RECONCILIATION.  20/ 

an  extent,  that  I  felt  as  if  I  could  never  forgive  you. 
But  my  child's  happiness  must  be  considered  before 
my  own  feelings.  It  is  my  duty  and  my  privilege 
so  to  consider  them  ;  and,  to  be  frank  with  you,  her 
sufferings  have  been  so  intense  within  the  last  few 
days,  that  I  have  felt  myself  willing  to  make  almost 
any  sacrifice  in  order  to  alleviate  them." 

"  Miss  Leonie  is  not  ill,  I  trust  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Weems,  with  an  admirably  simulated  look  of  alarm 
upon  his  countenance. 

"  Mr.  Weems,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  seriously,  "  it 
may  be  injudicious  for  me  to  say  so  to  you,  because 
it  will  give  you  an  unfair  advantage  at  the  outset ; 
but  Leonie  has  been  deeply  distressed  at  your 
treatment  of  iier.  If  I  were  a  sentimental  man,  I 
should  say  that  her  heart  is  breaking.  She  refuses 
food,  she  is  continually  downcast  and  melancholy, 
and  in  her  broken  sleep  she  babbles  continually  of 
you." 

"  Poor  thing !  "  said  Mr.  Weems,  wiping  his  eyes. 

"  Mrs.  Cowdrick  and  I  have  been  much  distressed 
because  of  her  condition  ;  but  we  should  have  been 
at  a  loss  for  a  remedy  if  your  note  had  not  sug- 
gested one." 

"  I  have  been  equally  unhappy  myself,"  said  Mr. 
Weems.  "  I  wrote  because  I  could  find  relief  for 
my  feelings  in  no  other  manner." 

"Now  that  you  are  here,"  continued  Mr.  Cow- 
drick, "we  might  as  well  have  a  complete  under- 


208  THE    CITY    OF   BURLESQUE. 

Standing,  Are  you  prepared  to  make  a  proposition 
of  any  kind  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  offer  a  suggestion,  if  I  dared." 

"  You  have  my  permission  to  speak  freely  ;  and 
I  would  add,  in  order  to  remove  any  misapprehen- 
sion, that  Leonie  Cowdrick  need  not  seek  an 
alliance  unless  she  chooses  to  do  so,  for  her  parents 
are  well  able  to  maintain  her  in  luxury." 

'•Well,  Mr.  Cowdrick,"  replied  Mr.  Weems, 
"  what  I  have  to  say  is,  that  if  Leonie  can  forgive 
and  forget  the  past,  it  will  give  me  the  greatest 
happiness  to  renew  my  engagement  with  her,  and 
to  return  to  the  conditions  that  existed  before  that 
miserable  quarrel  occurred.  Do  you  think  she  will 
consent .''" 

"  Under  some  pressure  from  me  and  from  her 
mother,  I  think  she  will.  For  my  part,  I  am  will- 
ing to  overlook  what  has  happened,  and  to  receive 
you  once  more  into  my  family." 

Mr.  Cowdrick  extended  his  hand,  and  Mr. 
Weems  shook  it  warmly. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Weems,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick, 
"  there's  another  matter,  of  which  I  wish  to  speak. 
I  refer  to  your  art.  Pardon  me  for  asking  you,  but 
although  I  shall  make  some  provision  for  Leonie, 
you,  of  course,  must  do  something  also.  What  is 
the  condition  of  your  art  —  in  a  financial  sense,  I 
mean  ? " 

"Well,  business  is  a  little  dull  just  at  this  mo- 
ment." 


HIGH    ART.  209 

"  I  thought  SO.  The  proportion  of  old  masters 
in  the  market  to  the  purchasing  population  is  too 
great.     Can't  you  take  up  something  else  ?  " 

Mr.  Weems  reflected  for  a  moment  upon  the 
painful  lack  of  opportunities  to  rob  banks  with  im- 
punity and  profit,  and  then  said,  — 

"  No  ;  I  am  afraid  not.  I  am  a  painter  and  must 
live  by  painting." 

"Just  so;  but  why  not  paint  pictures  that  can 
be  sold  readily  .-' " 

"  There  is  no  money  in  landscapes,  still-life,  or 
figure-pieces,  unless  a  man  has  genius.  A  painter 
of  ordinary  powers  has  no  chance." 

"  But  why  not  imitate  genius,  just  as  you  imitate 
the  old  masters  .-'  " 

"  How  do  you  mean  } " 

"  Genius  is  apt  to  be  eccentric.  If  you  make  a 
show  of  eccentricity,  most  persons  will  accept  that 
as  a  sure  token  of  genius.  You  want  to  be  odd, 
novel,  peculiar,  altogether  different  from  other 
people." 

"  There  may  be  something  in  that." 

"  Paint  a  Venus  with  feet  like  a  fishwoman,  and 
with  a  cast  in  her  eye.  Paint  a  Moses  with  a 
moustache  and  spectacles.  Daub  off  a  jet-black 
night-scene,  in  which  you  can  perceive  nothing  but 
absolute,  impenetrable  gloom,  and  label  it  '  A  Med- 
itation upon  Darkness  ; '  cover  a  canvas  with  blots 
of  white  paint,  with  nothing  but  the  bowsprit  'of  a 


2IO  THE    CITY    OF   BURLESQUE. 

ship  visible,  and  call  it  *  A  Misty  Morning  m  the 
Harbor.'  That  is  the  way  to  provoke  criticism 
and  discussion,  to  acquire  notoriety,  and  to  find 
purchasers." 

"  It  is  a  good  idea,"  replied  Mr.  Weems.  "  I  am 
much  obliged  to  you  for  it ;  I  will  accept  it,  and 
act  upon  it." 

"Would  you  like  to  see  Leonie  before  you  go?" 
asked  Mr,  Cowdrick. 

"  If  she  is  willing,  I  should  very  much," 

"  I  will  speak  to  her  about  it,  and  prepare  her 
for  the  interview,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  withdrawing 
from  the  room. 

A  moment  later  he  returned  with  Leonie  upon 
his  arm.     She  had  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"  Leonie,"  said  Mr.  Cowdrick,  "  this  is  Julius, 
He  asks  you  to  forgive  him." 

Leonie  lifted  up  her  head,  and  the  lovers  looked 
at  each  other  for  an  instant.  Then  she  flew  into 
his  arms  before  a  word  had  been  spoken  by  either 
of  them,  and  as  he  clasped  her  closely,  she  nestled 
her  head  upon  his  bosom, 

Mr.  Weems  retained  his  self-possession  so  per- 
fectly during  this  touching  scene  that  he  was  con- 
scious of  the  fracture  of  some  cigars  in  his  waist- 
coat pocket  by  the  presence  of  Leonie's  shoulder ; 
but  he  bore  the  disaster  bravely,  without  flinching. 

Before  he  released  his  hold  of  her,  Mrs.  Cowdrick 
entered  the  room,  and  was  so  much  overcome  by 


'Then  she  Flew  into  his  Arms."    Page  210. 


LOVE    TRIUMPHANT.  211 

the  intensity  of  her  emotions  when  she  saw  the  lov- 
ers, that  she  dropped  upon  the  sofa,  and  remained 
in  a  hysterical  condition  for  at  least  ten  minutes, 
despite  the  efforts  of  Mr.  Cowdrick  to  soothe  her. 

When  Mrs.  Cowdrick's  emotion  had  at  last  been 
brought  to  some  extent  under  control,  Mr.  Cow- 
drick.  suggested  that  it  might  be  as  well  to  fix  at 
once  upon  a  da)''  for  the  wedding,  so  that  the  two 
lovers,  after  all  the  sorrows  and  misunderstandings 
that  had  kept  them  apart,  might  enter  the  perfect 
bliss  and  the  sure  serenity  of  wedlock. 

Mr.  Cowdrick  pressed  for  an  early  date,  and  al- 
though Mrs.  Cowdrick  betrayed  new  and  alarming 
hysterical  symptoms  when  her  husband  expressed 
the  opinion  that  all  the  arrangements  might  be 
made  within  a  week,  she  finally  reconciled  herself 
to  the  selection  by  Leonie  of  a  day  exactly  three 
weeks  distant. 

Upon  the  very  next  morning  Mrs.  Cowdrick  and 
Leonie  began  the  work  of  preparation ;  and  it  is 
unnecessary  to  say  that  while  the  labor  continued, 
both  of  them  were  in  a  state  of  nearly  perfect  fe- 
licity. 

If  earth  is  ever  to  a  woman  a  little  heaven  here 
below,  it  is  when  she  is  called  upon  to  go  shopping 
upon  a  large  scale  with  a  long  purse.  The  female 
mind  experiences  the  purest  joy  when  there  are 
bonnets  to  be  trimmed,  fabrics  to  be  matched, 
dresses  to  be  made,  underclothing  to  be  stitched 


212  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

and  frilled,  pillow-cases  and  sheets  to  be  made  up, 
towels  to  be  fringed  and  marked,  furniture  to  be 
selected,  crockery  to  be  purchased,  and  a  general 
fitting-out  to  be  undertaken.  Mrs.  Cowdrick  soon 
had  a  dozen  sempstresses  employed,  and  eVery  day 
she  and  Leonie,  in  a  frame  of  exquisite  happiness, 
made  the  round  of  the  shops,  gathering  huge  heaps 
of  parcels.  One  single  touch  of  alloy  came  to  miti- 
gate the  intensity  of  their  enjoyment.  The  dia- 
mond merchant  and  the  dealer  in  sealskin  sacques, 
having  learned  from  harsh  experience  the  peril  of 
Mrs.  Cowdrick's  enthusiasm  for  nice  things,  un- 
kindly insisted  upon  making  their  contributions  to 
Leonie's  outfit  upon  a  basis  of  cash  in  hand  before 
delivery  of  the  goods.  But  then  we  must  not  ex- 
pect to  have  absolutely  pure  joy  in  this  world. 

Cards  for  the  wedding  were  sent  out  at  once  to 
all  of  the  friends  of  the  bride  and  groom,  and  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Cowdrick.  Of  course,  it  can  hardly  be 
expected  that  the  union  of  two  lovers  should  excite 
very  tender  sympathy  among  disinterested  persons  ; 
but  it  is  rather  melancholy  to  reflect  that  most  of 
the  individuals  who  received  cards  from  the  Cow- 
dricks  did  not  accept  the  compliment  with  unmixed 
satisfaction.  The  first  thought  that  occurred  to 
them  upon  reading  the  invitation  was  that  they 
would  be  compelled  to  expend  something  for  wed- 
ding presents,  and  many  of  them  had  a  feeling,  not 
clearly  defined,  but  still  strong,  that  the  marriage 


WEDDING-PRESENTS.  2  I  3 

of  Cowdrick's  daughter  was  somehow  a  mean  kind 
of  an  attempt  on  Cowdrick's  part  to  levy  tribute 
upon  them. 

The  presents,  however,  soon  began  to  come  in. 
Father  Tunicle  was  heard  from  among  the  first 
He  sent  a  sweet  little  volume  of  his  sermons  (the 
lithographed  discourse  not  being  included  among 
them).  The  book  had  been  published  at  the  cost 
of  a  few  of  the  reverend  gentleman's  admirers, 
whose  expectations  of  the  result  were  rather  disap- 
pointed by  the  sale  of  no  more  than  thirty-four 
copies  within  two  years.  Father  Tunicle  sent  the 
book  to  Leonie,  with  a  touching  note,  requesting 
her  especial  attention  to  the  sermon  upon  Auric- 
ular Confession,  upon  page  75.  Colonel  Hoker,  of 
the  Crab,  sent  a  handsome  silver-plated  tea-set, 
whose  value  to  Leonie  was  not  in  any  manner  de- 
creased by  the  circumstance,  unknown  to  her,  that 
the  Colonel  had  taken  it  from  a  former  advertiser 
in  payment  for  a  bad  debt.  The  De  Flukes  sent  a 
pair  of  elegant  fish-knives  quite  large  enough  to 
have  served  at  a  dinner  where  a  moderate-sized 
whale  should  follow  the  soup,  and  certainly  utterly 
useless  for  the  dissection  and  distribution  of  any 
fish  of  smaller  dimensions  than  a  sturgeon.  The 
Higginses,  who  were  not  in  very  good  circum- 
stances^  and  who  were  trying  hard  to  save  up 
enough  money  to  pay  for  a  fortnight's  visit  to  the 
seaside  in   the   summer,   reluctantly  sent  a  cake- 


214  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

basket,  because  Mr.  Cowdrick  had  given  one  to 
Maria  Higgins  the  year  before,  upon  the  occasion 
of  her  union  with  Dr.  Turmeric.  If  Mr.  Higgins 
had  ventured,  in  the  note  he  sent  with  the  gift,  to 
express  his  true  feelings,  the  vehemence  of  his  ut- 
terance would  have  made  Leonie's  head  swim  ;  but, 
happily,  he  controlled  himself. 

A  perfect  outrage  was,  however,  perpetrated  by 
Mr.  John  Doubleday,  who  had  lost  heavily  by  the 
failure  of  Mr.  Cowdrick's  bank.  He  positively  had 
the  impudence  to  enclose  to  Leonie,  with  his  com- 
pliments, a  cheque  for  one  hundred  dollars  upon  the 
aforesaid  late  financial  institution.  Mr.  Cowdrick 
said  that  a  man  who  was  capable  of  doing  a  thing 
of  that  kind  was  not  fit  to  live  in  civilized  society. 

Mr.  Weems's  artist  friends  all  sent  pictures, 
evidently  with  an  intent  that  Weems  should  begin 
his  married  life  with  the  walls  of  his  dwelling  cov- 
ered with  "  pot-boilers,"  whose  unsalable  qualities 
made  them  as  ineffective  in  that  capacity  as  they 
were  in  their  pretensions  to  be  regarded  as  works 
of  art.  Weems  felt,  as  he  surveyed  the  collection, 
that  there  must  have  been  among  the  brethren  an 
organized  conspiracy  to  unload  upon  him  the 
corners  of  the  studios. 

Among  the  other  presents  received  were  travel- 
ling-cases, which  held  nothing  that  anybody  ever 
wints  upon  a  journey  ;  cheap  spoons  put  into  a  case 
marked  with  the  name  of  a  first-class  silversmith, 


THE    WEDDING.  21$ 

with  an  intent  to  create  a  wrong  impression  re- 
specting the  quality  of  the  wares;  and  a  host  of 
trifles,  most  of  them  completely  useless,  and  all  of 
them  accounted  by  the  bride  and  groom  as  so  much 
spoil  collected  under  the  duress  of  a  custom  which 
is  idiotic  when  it  requires  anything  that  is  not  a 
genuine  expression  of  affection  or  esteem. 

At  last,  when  every  indignant  friend  had  sent  in 
a  contribution,  when  all  the  dresses  were  made,  the 
bonnets  constructed,  and  the  frippery  and  fiddle- 
faddle  and  frills  arranged,  the  day  of  the  wedding 
came.  It  must  be  described,  of  course.  But  why 
should  an  unpractised  hand  attempt  to  tell  of  it, 
when  there  is,  within  easy  reach,  the  narrative 
written  by  the  expert  and  dexterous  fashion  reporter 
of  the  Daily  Crab  ?  Far  better  would  it  be  to 
transfer  bodily  to  these  pages  that  faithful  and 
complete  description. 

{From  the  "  Daily  Crab.") 

A  WEDDING  IN  HIGH  LIFE. 

"St.  Cadmus's  Church,  Perkiomen  Square,  yes- 
terday was  the  scene  of  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
weddings  of  the  season.  For  some  weeks  past  the 
approaching  event  has  been  an  absorbing  topic  of 
conversation  in  fashionable  circles,  the  loveUness 
of  the  bride-elect,  the  popularity  of  the  fortunate 
groom,  and    the   high    social    standing  of   all    the 


2l6  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE, 

interested  parties  having  invested  the  matter  with 
more  than  ordinary  importance.  The  bride  was 
Miss  Leonie  Cowdrick,  only  daughter  of  the  well- 
known  ex-banker  and  philanthropist,  Henry  G. 
Cowdrick,  Esq.,  and  herself  one  of  the  leading  belles 
of  the  bon  ton.  The  groom  was  Julius  Weems, 
Esq.,  the  artist,  a  man  whose  skill  as  a  wielder  of 
the  brush,  not  less  than  his  qualities  of  head  and 
heart,  have  made  him  the  idol  of  a  large  circle  of 
friends. 

"  The  wedding  ceremony  was  announced  for 
half-past  four  in  the  afternoon  ;  and  long  beforei 
that  hour  the  streets  in  the  vicinity  of  St.  Cadmus's 
were  thronged  with  equipages  belonging  to  the  elite 
of  our  society.  None  were  admitted  to  the  church 
but  those  who  were  so  happy  as  to  possess  cards ; 
the  edifice,  however,  was  densely  thronged,  with  the 
exception  of  the  pews  which  were  reserved  in  the 
front  for  the  immediate  family  and  near  relatives  of 
the  high  contracting  parties. 

"The  ushers,  who  officiated  with  rare  delicacy 
and  discrimination,  were  Messrs.  Peter  B.  Thomas, 
Arthur  McGinn  Dabney,  G,  G.  Parker,  and  Daniel 
O'Huff — all  of  them  brother  artists  of  the  groom's, 
and  men  well  known  in  cultivated  circles. 

•'  Professor  Peddle  presided  at  the  organ,  and 
previous  to  the  arrival  of  the  bridal  party  he  dis- 
coursed most  delicious  music. 

"Among  the  distinguished  persons  who  graced 


THE    WEDDING.  217 

the  occasion  with  their  presence,  we  noted  the 
following :  — 

"  Major-Gen.  Bung,  Colonel  Growler,  Professor 
Boodle,  Rev.  Dr.  Wattles,  Judge  Potthinkle,  Captain 
Dingus,  Major  Doolittle,  Hon.  John  Gigg,  M.C., 
Judge  Snoozer,  of  the  Supreme  Court ;  Miss  Delilah 
Hopper  (Minnie  Myrtle),  the  famous  authoress  of 
'  The  Bride  of  an  Evening,'  *  A  Broken  Heart,'  etc., 
etc..  Professor  Blizzard,  State  Entomologist ;  Gov- 
ernor Tilby,  Ex-Governor  Raffles,  Dr.  Borer,  U.S.A.; 
Rear-Admiral  Mizzen,  U.S.N.;  Senator  Smoot, 
Signor  Portulacca,  the  Venezuelan  Ambassador, 
General  Curculio,  Minister  from  Nicaragua;  General 
Whisker,  the  railroad  magnate  ;  Colonel  and  Mrs. 
Grabeau,  Dr.  Hummer,  Thos.  G.  Witt,  Esq.,  Hon. 
John  Grubb,  Captain  Mahoney,  of  the  State  Militia  ; 
Professor  Smith,  of  the  University  ;  Galusha  M. 
Budd,  President  of  the  Board  of  Trade  ;  Hon.  P. 
R.  Bixby,  Mayor  of  the  City  ;  and  many  others. 

"At  precisely  five  o'clock.  Rev.  Mr.  Tunicle 
entered  the  church  in  full  ecclesiastical  vestments, 
accompanied  by  Rev.  Dr.  Pillsbury,  and  by  Rev. 
John  A.  Stapleton,  an  uncle  of  the  bride's.  At  this 
juncture  the  organ  sounded  the  first  notes  of  the 
Coronation  March  from  'II  Prophete,'  and  the  bride 
entered  upon  the  arm  of  her  father.  Following  her 
came  the  groom,  with  Miss  Lillie  Whackle,  the  first 
bridesmaid,  and  these  were  succeeded  by  the  re- 
mainder of  the  bridal  party. 


2l8  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

"  The  bride  was  dressed  with  exquisite  taste,  in 
a  white  satin  costume,  which  had  creamy  lace  in 
jabots  down  the  waist  and  sides,  mingled  with  pearl 
trimmings ;  while  the  sleeves  coming  only  to  the 
elbow,  were  made  entirely  of  lace.  The  back  was 
left  quite  plain,  with  waist  and  skirt  in  one.  Upon 
her  head  she  wore  a  dainty  wreath  of  orange 
blossoms,  and,  of  course,  the  usual  veil, 

"Among  other  costumes  in  the  bridal  party,  we 
noticed  a  Lyons  tulle,  made  up  over  satin,  with 
flowing  rosettes,  and  ribbons  of  white  satin  for 
trimming. 

"  Attention  was  directed  also  to  a  white  tarletan 
trimmed  with  Breton  lace  and  insertions,  and 
covered  with  bows  and  loops  and  ends  of  satin 
ribbon. 

"  One  of  the  ladies  of  the  party  wore  a  dis- 
tinguished costume  of  cream-colored  satin,  with 
paniers  of  Pekin  grenadine,  with  stripes  of  white 
alternating  with  stripes  of  cream-color ;  there  was  a 
satin  corsage,  plain,  like  a  basque ;  and  across  the 
front-breadths  of  the  skirt  there  were  soft  puffs  of 
satin  and  grenadine. 

"Mrs.  Cowdrick,  the  mother  of  the  bride,  ap- 
peared in  a  regal  toilette  of  black  velvet  and 
diamonds. 

"  The  ceremony  was  read  in  a  deeply  impressive 
manner  by  Rev.  Mr,  Tunicle,  the  bride  being  given 
away,  of  course,  by  her  father. 


THE    WEDDING.  219 

"Mrs.  Cowdrick  was  so  strongly  affected  by  the 
consciousness  that  her  daughter  was  being  taken 
from  her,  that  at  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony 
she  displayed  some  slight  hysterical  symptoms, 
which  for  a  moment  threatened  to  create  confusion. 
She  became  calmer,  however,  and  was  led  out  from 
the  church  by  one  of  the  ushers,  weeping. 

"  Professor  Peddle  then  began  Mendelssohn's 
Wedding  March,  and  the  proud  and  happy  groom, 
with  his  lovely  wife  upon  his  arm,  turned  to  lead 
the  bridal  party  down  the  aisle. 

"  We  learn  that  a  magnificent  entertainment  was 
given  later  in  the  day  at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Cow- 
drick, to  his  friends,  and  that  the  festivities  were 
prolonged  until  a  late  hour.  It  is  understood  that 
the  newly-married  couple  will  spend  their  honey- 
moon at  Saratoga." 

The  reporter  was  not  admitted  to  the  entertain- 
ment, and  so  there  is  upon  record  no  description 
of  it.  But  we  might,  if  we  chose,  safely  guess  at 
hot  rooms,  so  crowded  that  motion  was  nearly 
impossible  ;  at  absurd  attempts  to  dance  within 
narrow  spaces  ;  at  rows  of  wall-flowers  along  the 
sides  of  the  rooms  ;  at  inane  attempts  at  conver- 
sation between  guests  who  were  strangers  to  each 
other ;  of  groups  of  uncomfortable  people  trying  to 
appear  as  if  they  felt  very  happy  ;  of  a  supper-table 
loaded  with  rich  viands  for  which  well-dressed  men 


220  THE    CITY    OF    BURLESQUE. 

scrambled  as  if  they  had  been  fasting  for  weeks ; 
of  ices  spilled  upon  costly  dresses,  and  champagne 
glasses  emptied  upon  fine  coats ;  and,  finally,  of 
departing  guests  in  the  gentlemen's  dressing-rooms, 
saying  unhandsome  things  to  each  other  in  sneering 
whispers  of  the  man  whose  hospitality  they  had 
accepted. 

We  can  imagine  these  things  ;  and  perhaps  if  we 
could  have  looked  into  the  house  at  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning  when  the  last  guest  had  said  farewell, 
we  might  have  heard  Mr.  Cowdrick  say,  as  he 
threw  himself  weary  and  worn  in  an  easy-chair,  — 

"  Well,  thank  goodness,  Louisa,  Leonie  is  ofif  of 
our  hands  at  last !  " 


AN    OLD   FOGY.  221 


AN  OLD  FOGY. 


HE  good  old  times !  And  the  old  times 
were  good,  my  dear ;  better,  much  better, 
than  the  times  that  you  live  in.  I  know  I 
am  an  old  fogy,  Nelly,"  said  Ephraim  Batterby, 
refilling  his  pipe,  and  looking  at  his  granddaughter, 
who  sat  with  him  in  front  of  the  fire,  with  her  head 
bending  over  her  sewing  ;  "  I  know  I  am  an  old 
fogy,  and  I  glory  in  it." 

"  But  you  never  will  be  for  me,  grandpa,"  said 
Nelly,  glancing  at  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  I  am  for  everybody.  I  am  a 
man  of  the  past.  Everything  I  ever  cared  for  and 
ever  loved,  excepting  you,  belongs  to  the  years  that 
have  gone,  and  my  affections  belong  to  those  years. 
I  liked  the  people  of  the  old  time  better  than  I  do 
those  of  the  new.  I  loved  their  simpler  ways,  the 
ways  that  I  knew  in  my  boyhood,  threescore  and 
more  years  ago.  I  am  sure  the  world  is  not  so 
good  as  it  was  then.  It  is  smarter,  perhaps  ;  it 
knows  more,  but  its  wisdom  vexes  and  disgusts 
me.     I  am  not  certain,  my  dear,  that,  if  I  had  my 


222  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

way,  I  would  not  sweep  away,  at  one  stroke,  all  the 
so-called  *  modern  conveniences,'  and  return  to  the 
ancient  methods," 

"  They  were  very  slow,  grandpa." 

"  Yes,  slow  ;  and  for  that  I  liked  them.  We  go 
too  fast  now ;  but  our  speed,  I  am  afraid,  is  hurry- 
ing us  in  the  wrong  direction.  We  were  satisfied 
in  the  old  time  with  what  we  had.  It  was  good 
enough.  Are  men  contented  now .-'  No  ;  they 
are  still  improving  and  improving  ;  still  reaching 
out  for  something  that  will  be  quicker,  or  easier,  or 
cheaper  than  the  things  that  are.  We  appear  to 
have  gained  much  ;  but  really  we  have  gained 
nothing.  We  are  not  a  bit  better  off  now  than  we 
were ;  not  so  well  off,  in  my  opinion." 

"  But,  grandpa,  you  must  remember  that  you 
were  young  then,  and  perhaps  looked  at  the  world 
in  a  more  hopeful  way  than  you  do  now." 

"  Yes,  I  allow  for  that,  Nelly,  I  allow  for  that ;  I 
don't  deceive  myself.  My  youth  does  not  seem  so 
very  far  off  that  I  cannot  remember  it  distinctly. 
I  judge  the  time  fairly,  now  in  my  old  age,  as  I 
judge  the  present  time,  and  my  assured  opinion  is 
that  it  was  superior  in  its  ways,  its  life,  and  its 
people.  Its  people !  Ah,  Nelly,  my  dear,  there 
were  three  persons  in  that  past  who  alone  would 
consecrate  it  to  me.  I  am  afraid  there  are  not 
many  women  now  like  your  mother  and  mine,  and 
like  my  dear  wife,  whom  you  never  saw.     It  seems 


AN   OLD   FOGY.  223 

to  me,  my  child,  that  I  would  willingly  live  all  my 
life  over  again,  with  its  strifes  and  sorrows,  if  I 
could  clasp  again  the  hand  of  one  of  those  angelic 
women,  and  hear  a  word  from  her  sweet  lips." 

As  the  old  man  wiped  the  gathering  moisture 
from  his  eyes,  Nelly  remained  silent,  choosing  not 
to  disturb  the  reverie  into  which  he  had  fallen. 
Presently  Ephraim  rose  abruptly,  and  said,  with 
a  smile, — 

"  Come,  Nelly  dear,  I  guess  it  is  time  to  go  to 
bed.     I  must  be  up  very  early  to-morrow  morning." 

"  At  what  hour  do  you  want  breakfast,  grandpa }" 

"  Why,  too  soon  for  you,  you  sleepy  puss.  I 
shall  breakfast  by  myself  before  you  are  up,  or  else 
I  shall  breakfast  down  town.  I  have  a  huge  cargo 
of  wheat  in  from  Chicago,  and  I  must  arrange  to 
have  it  shipped  for  Liverpool.  There  is  one  thing 
that  remains  to  me  from  the  old  time,  and  that  is 
some  of  the  hard  work  of  my  youth  ;  but  even  that 
seems  a  little  harder  than  it  used  to.  So,  come 
now  ;  to  bed  !  to  bed  !  " 

While  he  was  undressing,  and  long  after  he  had 
crept  beneath  the  blankets,  Ephraim's  thoughts 
wandered  back  and  back  through  the  spent  years  ; 
and,  as  the  happiness  he  had  known  came  freshly 
and  strongly  into  his  mind,  he  felt  drawn  more  and 
more  towards  it ;  until  the  new  and  old  mingled 
together  in  strange  but  placid  confusion  in  his 
brain,  and  he  fell  asleep. 


224  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

When  he  awoke  it  was  still  dark,  for  the  winter 
was  just  begun;  but  he  heard  —  or  did  he  only 
dream  that  he  heard  ?  —  a  clock  in  some  neighbor- 
ing steeple  strike  six.  He  knew  that  he  must  get 
up,  for  his  business  upon  that  day  demanded  early 
attention. 

He  sat  up  in  bed,  yawned,  stretched  his  arms 
once  or  twice,  and  then,  flinging  the  covering  aside, 
he  leaped  to  the  floor.  He  fell,  and  hurt  his  arm 
somewhat.  Strange  that  he  should  have  miscalcu- 
lated the  distance !  The  bed  seemed  more  than 
twice  as  high  from  the  floor  as  it  should  be.  It 
was  too  dark  to  see  distinctly,  so .  he  crept  to  the 
bed  with  extended  hands,  and  felt  it.  Yes,  it  was 
at  least  four  feet  from  the  floor,  and,  very  oddly,  it 
had  long,  slim  posts,  such  as  bedsteads  used  to 
have,  instead  of  the  low,  carved  footboard,  and  the 
high,  postless  "headboard,  which  belonged  to  the 
bedstead  upon  which  he  had  slept  in  recent  years. 
Ephraim  resolved  to  strike  a  light.  He  groped  his 
way  to  the  table,  and  tried  to  find  the  match-box. 
It  was  not  there  ;  he  could  not  discover  it  upon  the 
bureau  either.  But  he  found  something  else,  which 
he  did  not  recognize  at  first,  but  which  a  more 
careful  examination  with  his  fingers  told  him  was  a 
■  flint  and  steel.  He  was  vexed  that  any  one  should 
play  such  a  trick  upon  him.  How  could  he  ever 
succeed  in  lighting  the  gas  with  a  flint  and  steel! 

But   he   resolved   to   try,   and    he   moved   over 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  225 

towards  the  gas-bracket  by  the  bureau.  It  was  not 
there !  He  passed  his  cold  hand  over  a  square 
yard  of  the  wall,  where  the  bracket  used  to  be,  but 
it  had  vanished.  It  actually  seemed,  too,  as  if 
there  was  no  paper  on  the  wall,  for  the  whitewash 
scaled  off  beneath  his  fingers. 

Perplexed  and  angry,  Ephraim  was  about  to  re- 
place the  flint  and  steel  upon  the  bureau,  and  to 
dress  in  the  dark,  when  his  hand  encountered  a 
candlestick.  It  contained  a  candle.  He  deter- 
mined to  try  to  light  it.  He  struck  the  flint  upon 
the  steel  at  least  a  dozen  times,  in  the  way  he  re- 
membered doing  so  often  when  he  was  a  boy,  but 
the  sparks  refused  to  catch  the  tinder.  He  struck 
again  and  again,  until  he  became  really  warm  with 
effort  and  indignation,  and  at  last  he  succeeded. 

It  was  only  a  poor,  slim  tallow  candle,  and 
Ephraim  thought  the  light  was  not  much  better^ 
than  the  darkness,  it  was  so  dim  and  flickering  and 
dismal.  He  was  conscious  then  that  the  room  was 
chill,  although  his  body  felt  so  warm ;  and,  for  fear 
he  should  catch  cold,  he  thought  he  would  open  the 
register,  and  let  in  some  warm  air.  The  register  had 
disappeared  !  There,  right  before  him,  was  a  vast 
old-fashioned  fireplace  filled  with  wood.  By  what 
means  the  transformation  had  been  effected,  he  could 
not  imagine.     But  he  was  not  greatly  displeased. 

"  I  always  did  like  an  open  wood  fire,"  he  said, 
"and  now  I  will  have  a  roaring  one." 


226  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

So  he  touched  the  flame  of  the  candle  to  the 
light  kindling-wood,  and  in  a  moment  it  was  afire. 

"  I  will  wash  while  it  is  burning  up,"  said 
Ephraim. 

He  went  to  the  place  where  he  thought  he  should 
find  the  fixed  wash-stand,  with  hot  and  cold  water 
running  from  the  pipes,  but  he  was  amazed  to  find 
that  it  had  followed  the  strange  fashion  of  the  room, 
and  had  gone  also  !  There  was  an  old  hand-basin, 
with  a  cracked  china  pitcher,  standing  upon  a 
movable  wash-stand,  but  the  water  in  the  pitcher 
had  been  turned  to  solid  ice. 

With  an  exclamation  of  impatience  and  indig- 
nation, Ephraim  placed  the  pitcher  between  the 
andirons,  close  to  the  wood  in  the  chimney-place ; 
and  he  did  so  with  smarting  eyes,  for  the  flue  was 
cold,  and  volumes  of  smoke  were  pouring  out  into 
the  room.  In  a  few  moments  he  felt  that  he  should 
suffocate  unless  he  could  get  some  fresh  air,  so  he 
resolved  to  open  the  upper  sash  of  the  window. 

When  he  got  to  the  window  he  perceived  that 
the  panes  of  glass  were  only  a  few  inches  square, 
and  that  the  woodwork  inclosing  them  was  thrice 
thicker  and  heavier  than  it  had  been.  He  strove 
to  pull  down  the  upper  sash,  but  the  effort  was  vain  ; 
it  would  not  move.  He  tried  to  lift  the  lower  sash  ; 
it  went  up  with  difficulty  ;  it  seemed  to  weigh  a 
hundred  pounds  ;  and,  when  he  got  it  up,  it  would 
not  stay.  He  succeeded,  finally,  in  keeping  it  open 
by  placing  a  chair  beneath  it. 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  22/ 

When  the  ice  in  the  pitcher  was  thawed,  he 
finished  his  toilette,  and  then  he  descended  the 
stairs.  As  nobody  seemed  to  be  moving  in  the 
house,  he  resolved  to  go  out  and  get  his  breakfast 
at  a  restaurant.  He  unlocked  the  front  door,  and 
emerged  into  the  street  just  as  daylight  fairly  had 
begun. 

As  Ephraim  descended  the  steps  in  front  of  his 
house,  he  had  a  distinct  impression  that  something 
was  wrong,  and  he  was  conscious  of  a  feeling  of 
irritation  ;  but  it  seemed  to  him  that  his  mind,  for 
some  reason,  did  not  operate  with  its  accustomed 
precision  ;  and,  while  he  realized  the  fact  of  a  partial 
and  very  unexpected  change  of  the  conditions  of 
his  life,  he  found  that  when  he  tried,  in  a  strangely 
feeble  way,  to  grapple  with  the  problem,  the  solution 
eluded  him  and  baffled  him. 

The  force  of  habit,  rather  than  a  very  clearly 
defined  purpose,  led  him  to  walk  to  the  corner  of 
the  street,  just  below  his  dwelling,  and  to  pause 
there,  as  usual,  to  await  the  coming  of  the  horse-car 
which  should  carry  him  down  town.  Following  a 
custom,  too,  he  took  from  his  waistcoat  pocket  two 
or  three  pennies  (which,  to  his  surprise,  had  swollen 
to  the  uncomfortable  dimensions  of  the  old  copper 
cents),  and  looked  around  for  the  news-boy  from 
whom  he  bought,  every  morning,  the  daily  paper. 

The  lad,  however,  was  not  to  be  seen  ;  and 
Ephraim  was  somewhat  vexed  at  his  absence,  be- 


228  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

cause  he  was  especially  anxious  upon  that  morning 
to  observe  the  quotations  of  the  Chicago  and 
Liverpool  grain  markets,  and  to  ascertain  what 
steamers  were  loading  at  the  wharves. 

The  horse-car  was  delayed  much  longer  than  he 
expected,  and,  while  he  waited,  a  man  passed  by, 
dressed  oddly,  Ephraim  noticed,  in  knee-breeches 
and  very  old-fashioned  coat  and  hat.  Ephraim  said 
to  him,  politely, — 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  sir,  where  I  can  get  a  morning 
paper  in  this  neighborhood  ?  The  lad  I  buy  from, 
commonly,  is  not  at  his  post  this  morning." 

The  stranger,  stopping,  looked  at  Ephraim  with 
a  queer  expression,  and  presently  said, — 

"  I  don't  think  I  understand  you  ;  a  morning 
paper,  did  you  say  ? " 

"  Yes,  one  of  the  morning  papers ;  the  Argus  or 
Commercial — any  of  them." 

"  Why,  my  dear  sir,  there  is  but  one  newspaper 
published  in  this  city.  It  is  the  Gazette.  It  comes 
out  on  Saturday,  and  this,  you  know,  is  only 
Tuesday." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  we  have  no  daily 
papers  .''"  exclaimed  Ephraim,  somewhat  angrily, 

'^ Daily  papers!  Papers  published  every  day! 
Why,  sir,  there  is  not  such  a  newspaper  in  the 
world,  and  there  never  will  be." 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  Ephraim,  turning  his  back  upon 
the  man  in  disgust. 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  229 

The  stranger  smiled,  and,  shaking  his  head  as  if 
he  had  serious  doubts  of  Ephraim's  sanity,  passed 
onward. 

"  The  man  is  cracked,"  said  Ephraim,  looking 
after  him.  "  No  daily  papers  !  The  fellow  has  just 
come  from  the  interior  of  Africa,  or  else  he  is  an 
escaped  lunatic.  It  is  very  queer  that  car  does  not 
come,"  and  Ephraim  glanced  up  the  street  anxiously. 
"  There  is  not  a  car  in  sight.  A  fire  somewhere,  I 
suppose.  Too  bad  that  I  should  have  lost  so  much 
time.      I  shall  walk  down," 

But,  as  Ephraim  stepped  into  the  highway,  he 
was  surprised  to  find  that  there  were  no  rails  there. 
The  cobblestone  pavement  was  unbroken. 

"  Well,  upon  ray  word  !  This  is  the  strangest 
thing  of  all.  What  on  earth  has  become  of  the 
street-cars  .-'  I  must  go  afoot,  I  suppose,  if  the  dis- 
tance is  great.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  too  late  for 
business,  as  it  is." 

As  he  walked  onward  at  a  rapid  pace,  and  his 
eyes  fell  upon  the  buildings  along  the  route,  he  was 
queerly  sensible  that  the  city  had  undergone  a 
certain  process  of  transformation.  It  had  a  familiar 
appearance,  too.  He  seemed  to  know  it  in  its 
present  aspect,  and  yet  not  to  know  it.  The  way 
was  perfectly  familiar  to  him,  and  he  recognized  all 
the  prominent  landmarks  easily,  and  still  he  had 
an  indefinable  feeling  that  some  other  city  had 
stood  where  this  did  ;  that  he  had  known  this  very 


230  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

route  under  other  conditions,  and  that  the  later 
conditions  were  those  that  had  passed  away,  while 
those  that  he  now  saw  belonged  to  a  much  earlier 
period. 

He  felt,  too,  that  the  change,  whatever  it  was, 
had  brought  a  loss  with  it.  The  buildings  that 
lined  the  street  now  he  thought  very  ugly.  They 
were  old,  misshapen,  having  pent-roofs  with  ab- 
surdly high  gables,  and  the  shop-windows  were 
small,  dingy,  and  set  with  small  panes  of  glass.  He 
had  known  it  as  a  handsome  street,  edged  with 
noble  edifices,  and  offering  to  the  gaze  of  the  pe- 
destrian a  succession  of  splendid  windows  filled  with 
merchandise  of  the  most  brilliant  description. 

But  Ephraim  pressed  on  with  a  determination  to 
seek  his  favorite  restaurant,  for  he  began  to  feel 
very  hungry.  In  a  little  while  he  reached  the  cor- 
ner where  the  restaurant  should  have  been,  but  to 
his  vexation  he  saw  that  the  building  there  was  a 
coffee-house  of  mean  appearance,  in  front  of  which 
swung  a  blurred  and  faded  sign. 

He  resolved  to  enter,  for  he  could  get  a  break- 
fast here,  at  least.  He  pushed  through  the  low 
doorway  and  over  the  sanded  floor  into  a  narrow 
sort  of  box,  where  a  table  was  spread  ;  and,  as  he 
did  so,  he  had  a  hazy  feeling  that  this,  too,  was 
something  that  he  was  familiar  with. 

"  It  must  be,"  he  said,  "  that  my  brain  is  pro- 
ducing a  succession  of  those  sensations  that  I  have 


AN   OLD    FOGY.  23 1 

had  sometimes  before,  which  persuade  the  credu- 
lous that  we  move  continually  in  a  circle,  and  for- 
ever live  our  lives  over  again." 

As  he  took  his  seat  a  waiter  approached  him. 

"  Give  me  a  bill  of  fare,"  said  Ephraim. 

"  Bill  of  fare,  sir  ?  Have  no  bill  of  fare,  sir.  Nev- 
er have  them,  sir ;  no  coffee-house  has  them,  sir. 
Get  you  up  a  jiice  breakfast  though,  sir." 

*'  What  have  you  got .-' " 

"  Ham,  sir  ;  steak,  sir ;  boiled  egg,  sir ;  coffee,  tea, 
muffins.    Just  in  from  furrin  countries,  sir,  are  you  ? " 

"  Never  mind  where  I  am  from,"  said  Ephraim, 
testily.  "  Bring  me  a  broiled  steak,  and  egg,  and 
some  muffins  and  coffee,  and  bring  them  quickly." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  half  a  minute,  sir.    Anything  else,  sir  ?" 

"  Bring  me  a  newspaper." 

*'  Yes,  sir ;  here  it  is,  sir,  the  very  latest,  sir." 

Ephraim  took  the  paper,  and  glanced  at  it.  It 
was  the  IVee^/y  Gazette,  four  days  old ;  a  little 
sheet  of  yellow-brown  paper,  poorly  printed,  con- 
taining some  fragments  of  news,  and  nothing  later 
from  Europe  than  November  6,  although  the  Ga- 
zette bore  date  December  19.  So  soon  as  Ephraim 
comprehended  its  worthlessness,  he  tossed  it  con- 
temptuously upon  the  floor,  and  waited,  almost 
sullenly,  for  his  breakfast. 

When  it  came  in  upon  the  tray,  carried  by  the 
brisk  waiter,  it  looked  dainty  and  tempting  enough, 
and  the  fumes  that  rose  from  it  were  so  savory  that 


232  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

he  grew  into  better  humor.  As  it  was  spread  be- 
fore him,  he  perceived  that  the  waiter  had  given 
him  a  very  coarse,  two-pronged  steel  fork. 

"Take  that  away,"  said  Ephraimj  tossing  it  to 
the  end  of  the  table  ;  "  I  want  a  silver  fork." 

"  Silver  fork,  sir !  Bless  my  soul,  sir !  We  haven't 
got  any  ;  never  heard  of  such  a  thing,  sir." 

"  Never  heard  of  a  silver  fork,  you  idiot  I " 
shouted  Ephraim  ;  "  why,  everybody  uses  them." 

"  No,  sir ;  I  think  not,  sir.  I've  lived  with  first 
quality  people,  sir,  and  they  all  use  this  kind.  Nev- 
er saw  any  other  kind,  sir ;  didn't  know  there  was 
any.     Do  they  have  'em  in  furrin  parts,  sir  ? " 

"  Get  out !  "  said  Ephraim,  savagely.  He  was 
becoming  somewhat  annoyed  and  bewildered  by  the 
utter  disappearance  of  so  many  familiar  things. 

But  the  breakfast  was  good,  and  he  was  hungry, 
so  he  fell  to  with  hearty  zest,  and,  although  he 
found  the  steel  fork  clumsy,  it  did  him  good  ser- 
vice. At  the  conclusion  of  the  meal,  Ephraim 
walked  rapidly  to  his  office  —  the  office  that  he  had 
occupied  for  nearly  sixty  years.  As  he  opened  the 
door,  he  expected  to  find  his  letters  in  the  box 
wherein  the  postman  thrust  them  twice  or  thrice 
a  day.  They  were  not  there.  The  box  itself  was 
gone. 

"  Too  bad  !  too  bad  ! "  exclaimed  Ephraim.  "  Ev- 
erything conspires  to  delay  me  to-day.  I  suppose 
I  must  sit  here  and  wait  for  that  lazy  letter-carrier 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  233 

to  come,  and  meantime  my  business  must  wait 
too." 

With  the  intent  not  to  lose  the  time  altogether, 
Ephraim  resolved  to  write  a  letter  or  two.  He  took 
from  the  drawer  a  sheet  of  rough  white  paper,  and 
opened  his  inkstand.  He  could  not  find  his  favor- 
ite steel  pen  anywhere,  and  there  were  no  other 
pens  in  the  drawer,  only  a  bundle  of  quills.  Eph- 
raim determined  to  try  to  use  one  of  these.  He 
ruined  four,  and  lost  ten  minutes  before  he  could 
make  with  his  knife  a  pen  good  enough  to  write 
with ;  but  with  this  he  finished  his  letter.  Then  he 
had  another  hunt  for  an  envelope,  but  he  could  find 
one  nowhere,  and  nothing  was  to  be  done  but  to  fold 
the  sheet  in  the  fashion  that  he  had  known  in  his 
boyhood,  and  to  seal  it  with  sealing-wax.  He 
burned  his  fingers  badly  while  performing  the  last- 
named  operation. 

Still  the  postman  had  not  arrived,  and  Ephraim, 
being  very  anxious  to  mail  his  letter,  resolved  to  go 
out  and  drop  it  into  the  letter-box  at  the  corner  of 
the  street.  When  he  reached  the  corner,  he  found 
that  the  letter-box  had  disappeared  as  so  many 
other  things  had  done  ;  so  he  resolved  to  push  on 
to  the  post-office,  where  he  could  leave  the  letter 
and  get  his  morning's  mail.  As  he  approached 
what  he  had  supposed  was  the  post-ofiftce,  he  was 
dismayed  to  perceive  that  another  building  oc- 
cupied the  site.     The  post-oflSce  had  vanished. 


234  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

He  turned  to  a  man  standing  with  a  crowd  which 
was  observing  him,  and  asked  him  where  the  post- 
office  could  be  found.  Obeying  the  direction,  he 
sought  the  place  and  found  it.  Rushing  to  the 
single  window,  behind  which  a  clerk  stood,  he 
asked,  — 

"  Are  there  any  letters  for  Ephraim  Batterby  .-' " 

"  I  think  not,"  said  the  clerk  ;  "  there  will  be  no 
mail  in  till  to-morrow." 

"  Till  to-morrow  !  "  shouted  Ephraim.  "  What  is 
the  matter  ? " 

"  The  matter  !  nothing  at  all.  What's  the  mat- 
ter with  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  expecting  letters  from  New  York  and 
Chicago.     Are  both  mails  delayed  ?  " 

"Chicago's  a  place  I  never  heard  of,  and  the 
mail  from  New  York  comes  in  only  three  times  a 
week.  It  came  yesterday,  and  it  will  come  in 
to-morrow." 

"  Three  times  a  week  ! "  exclaimed  Ephraim  ; 
"  why,  it  comes  four  or  five  times  a  day,  unless  I 
am  very  much  mistaken." 

The  clerk  turned  to  a  fellow-clerk  behind  him 
and  said  in  a  low  tone  something  at  which  both 
laughed. 

"  How  do  you  suppose  the  mails  get  here  four  or 
five  times  a  day  ? "  asked  the  clerk. 

"  Upon  the  mail  trains,  of  course,"  replied  Eph- 
raim, tartly  ;  and  then  the  clerks  laughed  again. 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  235 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  man  at  the  window,  "we 
don't  appear  to  understand  each  other  ;  but  it  may 
straighten  things  out  if  I  tell  you  that  the  New 
York  mails  come  here  upon  a  stage-coach,  which 
takes  twenty-four  hours  to  make  the  journey,  and 
which  reaches  here  on  Mondays,  Wednesdays,  and 
Fridays." 

Ephraim  was  about  to  make  an  angry  reply,  but 
the  clerk  shut  the  window  and  made  further  dis- 
cussion impossible.  For  a  moment  Ephraim  was 
puzzled.  He  stopped  to  think  what  he  should  do 
next,  and  while  he  was  standing  there,  he  noticed 
a  curious  crowd  gathering  about  him,  a  crowd 
which  seemed  to  regard  him  with  peculiar  interest. 
And  now  and  then  a  rude  fellow  would  make  face- 
tious comments  upon  Ephraim's  dress,  at  which 
some  of  the  vulgar  would  laugh.  Ephraim  was 
somewhat  bewildered,  and  his  confusion  became 
greater  when  he  observed  that  all  of  the  bystanders 
wore  knee-breeches  and  very  uglyhigh  collars  and 
cravats,  in  which  their  chins  were  completely  bur- 
ied. Ephraim  perceived  near  to  him  a  gentleman 
who  held  in  his  hand  a  newspaper.  Encouraged 
by  his  friendly  countenance,  Ephraim  said  to  him, — 

"  I  am  rather  confused,  sir,  by  some  unexpected 
changes  that  I  have  found  about  here  this  morning, 
will  you  be  good  enough  to  give  me  a  little  in- 
formation .'' " 

"  With  pleasure,  sir." 


236  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

"  I  have  missed  some  important  letters  that  I 
looked  for  from  New  York  and  the  West.  I  wish 
to  communicate  with  my  correspondents  at  once. 
Will  you  please  tell  me  where  I  can  find  the  tele- 
graph office  ? " 

"  The  telegraph  office !  I  don't  understand  you, 
sir." 

"  I  wish  to  send  messages  to  my  friends  at  those 
points." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  know  of  no  other  way  to  send  them 
than  through  the  post-office  here." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  is  no  telegraph 
line  from  here  to  New  York  } " 

"  My  dear  sir,  what  do  you  mean  by  a  telegraph 
line.?" 

"A  telegraph  line  —  a  line  of  wire  on  which  I 
can  send  messages  by  electricity." 

"  I  fear  something  is  wrong  with  you,  sir,"  said 
the  gentleman  gravely.  "No  such  thing  exists. 
No  such  thing  can  exist." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Ephraim,  waxing  indignant. 
"  How  do  you  suppose  the  afternoon  papers  to-day 
will  get  the  quotations  of  the  Liverpool  markets  of 
to-day .''  How  will  the  brokers  learn  to-day  the 
price  of  securities  at  the  meeting  of  the  London 
Stock  Exchange  this  morning  ? " 

"  You  are  speaking  very  wildly,  sir,"  said  the 
gentleman,  stepping  close  to  Ephraim  and  using  a 
low  tone,  while  the  crowd  laughed.    "  You  must  be 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  23/ 

more  careful,  or  persons  will  regard  you  as  in- 
sane." 

"  Insane  !  Why  ?  Because  I  tell  you,  what  every- 
body knows,  that  we  get  cable  news  from  Europe 
every  day." 

"  Cable  news  !  cable  news  !  What  does  the  old 
fool  mean  ? "  shouted  the  crowd. 

"  What  do  I  mean !  "  exclaimed  Ephraim,  in  a 
passion  ;  "  I  mean  that  you  are  a  pack  of  idiots  for 
pretending  to  believe  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
a  telegraph,  and  no  such  thing  as  a  telegraph  cable 
to  Europe." 

The  crowd  sent  up  a  shout  of  derisive  laughter 
and  rushed  at  him  as  if  to  hustle  him  and  use  him 
roughly.  The  gentleman  to  whom  he  had  spoken 
seized  him  by  the  arm  and  hurried  him  away. 
When  they  had  turned  the  corner,  the  man  stopped 
and  said  to  Ephraim,  — 

"You  appear  to  be  a  sane  man,  although  you 
speak  so  strangely.  Let  me  warn  you  to  be  more 
careful  in  the  future.  If  you  should  be  taken  up  as 
a  madman  and  consigned  to  a  madhouse,  you  would 
endure  terrible  suffering,  and  find  it  very  difficult 
to  secure  release." 

"  I  am  perfectly  sane,"  said  Ephraim,  "  and  I 
cannot  comprehend  why  you  think  what  I  have  said 
strange.  I  wanted  my  letters,  and  I  wished  in 
their  absence  to  correspond  by  telegraph,  because 
I  am  expecting  a  cargo  of  wheat  to-day,  which  I 
am  to  ship  to  Liverpool  by  steamer." 


238  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

"  By  steamer !  There  you  go  again.  Nobody  can 
know  what  you  mean  by  '  steamer.'  " 

"  Steamer  !  Steamship !  A  ship  that  crosses  the 
ocean  by  steam,  without  sails.  You  know  what 
that  is,  certainly  ? " 

"  I  have  heard  some  talk  about  a  rattle-trap  in- 
vention which  used  steam  to  make  a  little  boat 
paddle  about  on  the  river  here  ;  but  as  for  crossing 
the  ocean  —  well,  my  dear  sir,  that  is  a  little  too 
ridiculous." 

"Ridiculous!    Why  —  " 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  the  man,  "  I  see  you  are  in- 
corrigible ;  I  must  bid  you  good  morning  ;  "  and  he 
bowed  politely  and  walked  quickly  away. 

"  Well,  well ! "  said  Ephraim,  standing  still  and 
looking  after  him  helplessly.  "  It's  queer,  very 
queer.  I  don't  begin  to  understand  it  at  all,  I  am 
half  inclined  to  believe  that  the  world  has  conspired 
to  make  game  of  me,  or  else  that  my  poor  wits 
really  are  astray.  I  don't  feel  as  certain  of  them  as 
a  clear-headed  man  should." 

While  he  spoke,  the  bells  of  the  city  rang  out  an 
alarm  of  fire  with  furious  clangor,  and  in  a  few 
moments  he  saw,  dashing  past  him,  an  old-fashioned 
hand-engine,  pulled  by  a  score  or  two  of  men  who 
held  a  rope.  The  burning  building  was  not  many 
hundred  yards  distant  from  Ephraim,  and  he  felt  an 
inclination  to  see  it.  When  he  reached  the  scene, 
men  with  leathern  buckets  were  pouring  water  into 


AN   OLD    FOGY.  239 

the  engine,  while  other  men  were  forcing  the 
handles  up  and  down,  with  the  result  that  a  thin 
stream  fell  upon  the  mass  of  flame. 

He  had  an  impulse  to  ask  somebody  why  the 
steam  fire-engines  were  not  used,  but  every  one 
seemed  to  be  excited  and  busy,  and  he  remembered 
what  his  friend  had  said  to  him  about  steamers. 

So  he  expressed  his  disgust  for  the  stupidity  of 
these  people  in  a  few  muttered  ejaculations ;  and 
then,  suddenly,  bethought  him  of  his  business. 

He  resolved  to  go  down  to  the  wharf  where  he 
had  expected  to  ship  his  cargo,  and  to  ascertain 
what  the  situation  was  there. 

As  he  came  near  to  the  place,  he  saw  that  it  had 
changed  since  he  last  saw  it,  but  a  handsome  ship 
lay  in  the  dock,  and  men  were  carrying  bags  of 
grain  aboard  of  her. 

"  That  must  be  my  cargo,"  he  said  ;  "  but  what 
on  earth  do  they  mean  by  loading  it  in  that  man- 
ner, and  upon  a  sailing  vessel  ?  " 

He  approached  the  man  who  seemed  to  be  su- 
perintending the  work,  and  said,  — 

"  Is  this  Ephraim  Batterby's  wheat  ? " 

The  man  looked  at  him  in  surprise  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  smiling,  said,  — 

"  No,  sir  ;  it  is  Brown  and  Martin's." 

"  When  did  it  arrive  ?  " 

"  Yesterday." 

"  By  rail  ?  " 


240  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

"  By  rail !     What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? " 

"  I  say,  did  it  come  by  rail  ? " 

"Well,  old  man,  I  haven't  the  least  idea  what 
you  mean  by  '  rail,'  but  if  you  want  to  know,  I'll 
tell  you  the  grain  came  by  canal-boat." 

"  From  Chicago  ?  " 

"Never  heard  of  Chicago.  The  wheat  came 
from  Pittsburg,  What  are  you  asking  for,  any 
way  ? " 

*'  Why,  I'm  expecting  some  myself,  by  rail  from 
Chicago,  and  I  intend  to  ship  it  to  Liverpool  in  a 
steamer  —  that  is,"  added  Ephraim,  hesitatingly, 
"if  I  can  find  one." 

"  Chicago  !  rail !  steamer !  Old  chap,  I'm  afraid 
you're  a  little  weak  in  the  top  story.  What  do  you 
mean  by  Chicago  .' " 

"  Chicago !  Why,  it's  a  city  three  or  four  hun- 
dred miles  west  of  Pittsburg  ;  a  great  centre  for 
the  western  grain  traffic.  Certainly  you  must  have 
heard  of  it." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  old  man,  you're  trying  to  guy 
me  !  I  know  well  enough  that  the  country  is  a 
howling  wilderness,  three  hundred  miles  beyond 
Pittsburg.     Grain  market !     That's  good  !  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Ephraim,  somewhat  feebly. 
"  It  used  to  be  there.  And  I  expected  a  cargo  of 
wheat  from  Chicago  to  be  here  this  morning,  by 
railroad." 

"  What  kind  of  a  railroad  ? " 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  24 1 

"A  railroad  :  iron  rails,  with  cars  propelled  with 
steam  !  I  expected  to  find  an  elevator  here  to  put 
the  grain  on  board  of  an  iron  vessel  ;  to  load  the 
whole  twenty  thousand  bushels  to-day  ;  but  things 
have  gone  wrong  somehow,  and  I  don't  understand 
precisely  why  !  " 

"  Bill,"  said  the  man,  turning  to  a  young  fellow, 
one  of  his  assistants,  near  him,  "  trot  this  poor  old 
chap  up  to  the  mayor's  office,  so  that  he'll  be  taken 
care  of.  He's  talking  to  me  about  bringing  twenty 
thousand  bushels  of  wheat  on  a  rail,  and  loading  it 
in  an  iron  vessel  —  an  iron  vessel,  mind  you  —  in 
one  day  !  It's  a  shame  for  the  old  fellow's  relations 
to  let  him  wander  about  alone." 

Before  "  Bill "  had  a  chance  to  offer  his  assist- 
ance, Ephraim,  alarmed,  and  more  than  ever  be- 
wildered, walked  quickly  away. 

As  he  gained  the  street,  a  man  of  about  middle 
age  suddenly  stopped  in  front  of  him,  and  said,  — 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Batterby." 

Ephraim  had  gotten  into  such  a  frame  of  mind, 
that  he  was  almost  startled  at  the  sound  of  his 
own  name. 

He  looked  hard  at  the  stranger,  but,  although 
the  features  were  son^ewhat  famihar,  he  could  not 
really  recognize  the  man. 

"  Don't  know  me,  Batterby  ?  Impossible !  Don't 
know  Tony  Miller  ! " 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  exclaimed   Ephraim  ;  *'  Tony 


*!* 


242  AN    OLD    FOGY, 

Miller !  so  it  is  !  Tdny  Miller  !  Not  Tony  Miller  ? 
Why — why  —  why,  Miller,  I  thought  you  died 
thirty  years  ago  !  " 

"  Died  !  ha,  ha  !  Not  a  bit  of  it,  man.  Why, 
it's  absurd !  I  saw  you  only  two  or  three  weeks 
since  !  " 

"  Strange,  strange  !  "  said  Ephraim,  almost  sadly, 
in  his  mind  trying  to  recall  some  fragments  of  the 
past.     "  I  could  have  sworn  that  you  were  dead  I " 

"  No,  sir ;  just  as  hearty  and  lively  as  I  ever 
was.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Batterby,  what  has  become 
of  Ephraim  .-'     I  don't  see  him  about  any  more." 

"  Ephraim  .''  Ephraim  Batterby  }  Why,  who  do 
you  think  I  am  .''  " 

"  Joshua  Batterby,  of  course  ;  who  else  }  You 
don't  seem  very  well  to-day,  I  think." 

"  He  mistakes  me  for  my  father,"  said  Ephraim 
to  himself.  "When  will  all  this  wild,  puzzling  mys- 
tery end  ? "  Then,  addressing  Miller,  he  said, 
"  I  would  like  to  have  some  conversation  with  you, 
Miller  ;  I  am  strangely  confused  and  upset  to-day." 

"  Certainly  ;  be  glad  to  have  a  chat  with  you.  I 
say,  suppose  you  come  home  and  dine  with  me?  I 
am  on  my  way  to  dinner  now.     Will  you  go  .''  " 

"  Gladly,"  replied  Ephraim. 
'•    As  they  walked  on.  Miller,  with  intent  to  break 
the  silence,  said,  — 

"  I  think  we  shall  have  rain  to-day,  Mr.  Bat- 
terby." 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  243 

"  Perhaps  ;  it  looks  like  it.  •  What  does  the  sig- 
nal service  say  ? " 

"  What  does  the  what  say  ? " 

"The  signal  service.    What  are  the  indications  ?" 

"I  haven't  the  least  idea  what  you  mean,  Mr. 
Batterby." 

"  Why,"  said  Ephraim,  timidly,  "  were  you  not 
aware  that  a  bureau  in  the  War  Department  collects 
information  which  enables  it  to  indicate  approach- 
ing conditions  of  the  weather,  and  that  it  gives 
this  information  to  the  newspapers  }  " 

"  Never  heard  of  such  a  thing,  Mr.  Batterby, 
and  I  don't  believe  it.  Somebody  has  been  joking 
with  you.  The  only  weather  indications  we  have  are 
in  the  almanacs,  and  they  are  not  at  all  reliable." 

The  two  walked  along  in  silence  for  a  time,  and 
then  Ephraim  said,  — 

"  Miller ! " 

"Well?" 

"I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  good  many  queer 
questions  to-day,  for  a  private  purpose  of  my  own  ; 
will  you  agree  to  answer  them  candidly  ? " 

"  If  I  can." 

"And  not  to  think  me  insane,  or  absurd,  or 
stupid  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  should  not  think  so." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Ephraim  ;  "  and  when  we  are 
done,  I  may  explain  why  I  asked  them,  and  per- 
haps you  can  solve  a  mystery  for  me." 


244  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

They  reached  the  house  and  entered  it.  The 
first  thing  Miller  did  was  to  proceed  to  the  side- 
board, fill  two  glasses  with  wine  from  a  decanter, 
and  ask  Ephraim  to  drink. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Ephraim,  "  I  never  touch  it." 

Miller  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  amaze- 
ment. He  concluded  that  this  must  be  one  of  the 
phases  of  Batterby's  newly-developed  queerness. 
So  he  emptied  his  own  glass  and  put  it  down. 

They  entered  the  parlor  to  wait  for  dinner. 
Ephraim's  eye  was  caught  by  a  very  pretty  minia- 
ture on  the  wall. 

"  Who  is  that  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Mrs.  Miller  ;  my  wife." 

"  Is  it  a  photograph  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  what  a  photograph  is." 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Ephraim,  "  I  remember.  Let  me 
ask  you  something  else.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a 
place  named  Chicago  ? " 

"  Never  !  there  is  no  such  place." 

"  You  know  nothing  of  railroads,  or  steamships, 
or  telegraphs .' " 

"  You  are  talking  Greek  to  me." 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  telegraph  cable  to 
Europe .'' " 

"  Well,  you  are  asking  queer  questions,  sure 
enough.     No,  I  never  did." 

"  Is  there,  or  is  there  not,  a  railway  line  across 
the  continent  to  the  Pacific  ? " 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  245 

"  What  a  funny  kind  of  an  idea !  No,  there 
isn't." 

"  Are  there  any  such  things  as  daily  papers  .-* " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  One  question  more  :  I  see  you  have  a  wood 
fire.     Do  you  never  burn  coal }  " 

"  Charcoal,  sometimes,  for  some  purposes," 

"  I  mean  hard  coal  —  stone  coal  ? " 

"There  is  no  such  thing  in  existence,  so  far  as  I 
know.  What  are  you  up  to,  anyhow  .''  Going  to 
invent  something .-' " 

"  I  will  tell  you  after  awhile,  may  be,"  replied 
Ephraim  ;  and  then  to  himself  he  said,  "  I  am  be- 
ginning to  catch  the  meaning  of  all  this  experience. 
How  strange  it  is  !  " 

A  lady  entered  from  the  front  door,  and  passed 
the  parlor.  Ephraim  saw  that  she  had  on  a  very 
narrow  dress,  with  a  high  waist  almost  beneath 
her  armpits,  that  she  wore  upon  her  head  an  enor- 
mous and  hideous  green  "  calash "  which  bore 
some  resemblance  to  a  gig-top. 

He  had  not  seen  one  of  those  wonderful  bits  of 
head-gear  for  fifty  years. 

In  a  few  moments  the  lady  entered  the  parlor. 
As  Mr.  Miller  presented  Batterby  to  his  wife, 
Ephraim  was  shocked  to  perceive  that  she  seemed 
to  have  on  but  a  single,  thin,  white  garment,  and 
that  even  this  appeared  to  be  in  immediate  danger 
of  slipping  downward.     He  thought  it  shockingly 


246  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

immodest,  but  he  remembered  the  figures  of  women 
he  had  seen  in  the  remote  past,  and  thought  he 
knew  what  this  meant.  So  he  gave  no  indication 
of  surprise. 

They  went  to  the  dining-room,  Ephraim  was 
very  careful  in  conducting  his  share  of  the  con- 
versation. Mrs.  Miller,  unlike  her  husband,  had 
not  been  forewarned.  However,  once,  when  she 
was  lamenting  the  absence  of  fruits  and  vegetables 
from  the  markets  in  winter,  Ephraim  incautiously 
asked  her  why  she  did  not  use  canned  goods  ;  and 
this  opened  the  way  to  some  vexatious  questions. 
A  little  later,  Miller  began  talking  about  the 
Warners,  people  whom  Ephraim  in  his  soul  knew 
had  been  dead  forty  years ;  and  Miller  had  men- 
tioned that  two  of  them  were  down  with  small- 
pox. Thereupon  Ephraim  asked  if  the  malady 
was  prevalent,  and  if  Miller  had  been  vaccinated. 
And  thus  again  he  got  into  trouble,  for  neither  his 
host  nor  hostess  knew  his  meaning.  He  was 
tripped  up  again  by  a  reference  to  sewing- 
machines  ;  and,  finally,  by  remarking,  innocently, 
when  Miller  observed  that  it  had  just  begun  to 
rain,  that  he  was  sorry  he  had  not  his  rubbers 
with  him. 

But  he  would  not  try  to  explain  his  meaning 
when  they  pressed  him.  He  had,  indeed,  an 
increasing   tendency  to   taciturnity.      He   shrank 


AN   OLD   FOGY.  24/ 

more  and  more  from  the  thought  of  attempting  a 
discussion  of  the  situation  in  which  some  wondrous 
mischance  had  placed  him.  As  Miller  waxed 
boisterous  and  lively  in  his  talk,  Ephraim  was 
strongly  impelled  to  complete  reserve. 

For  he  had  creeping  over  him,  gradually,  a 
horrible  feeling  that  these  people,  in  whose  company 
he  was  lingering,  were  not  real  people  ;  that  they 
were  dead,  and  that  by  some  awful  jugglery  they 
had  been  summoned  forth  and  compelled  to  play 
over,  before  him,  a  travesty  of  their  former  lives. 

He  became  gloomy  and  wretched  beneath  the 
oppression  of  the  thoughts  that  crowded  his  brain. 
As  the  hour  slipped  away,  his  distress  was  made 
more  intense  by  the  conduct  of  Miller,  who,  warmed 
with  wine,  mingled  oaths  with  his  conversation. 
Ephraim  felt  as  if  that  blasphemy  came  to  him 
clothed  with  a  new  horror  from  the  region  of  mystery 
beyond  the  grave.  Finally,  after  Mrs.  Miller  had 
left  the  room,  her  husband's  utterance  became  thick 
and  harsh,  and  presently  he  slipped,  drunken  and 
helpless,  beneath  the  table. 

Ephraim  sat  alone  at  the  board.  The  room  grew 
darker,  for  the  rain  was  now  swirling  without, 
against  the  window-panes.  There  was  something 
ghastly  and  fearful  in  the  appearance  of  the  apart- 
ment. The  outlines  of  the  furniture,  seen  through 
the  dusk,  were  distorted  and  misshapen.     Ephraim 


248  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

felt  as  if  he  were  in  the  presence  of  phantoms.  He 
had  the  sensations  of  one  who  sits  in  a  charnel- 
house,  and  knows  that  he  is  the  only  living  thing 
among  the  dead. 

His  good  sense  half  revolted  against  the  fear 
that  overspread  him  ;  but  it  seemed  not  strong 
enough  to  quell  the  tremulous  terror  in  his  soul ; 
for  that  grew  and  grew  until  it  filled  him  with  a 
kind  of  panic.  He  had  such  a  meaningless  dread 
as  the  bravest  know  when  they  find  themselves 
amid  darkness  and  loneliness  in  a  dwelling  wherein, 
of  late,  have  been  pleasant  company  and  merriment 
and  laughter ;  wherein  has  been  joyousness  that  has 
suddenly  been  quenched  by  utter,  dismal  silence. 

He  was  seized  by  a  sudden  impulse  to  fly.  He 
pushed  away  his  chair,  and  glanced  timorously 
around  him.  Then  he  trod  swiftly,  and  with  a 
fiercely-beating  heart,  to  the  hall-way.  Grasping 
his  hat  from  the  table,  he  opened  the  door,  and 
fled  out  into  the  tempest. 

As  he  sped  away  through  the  gloomy  street,  now 
wet  and  slippery,  and  covered  with  pools  of  rain,  it 
smote  his  heart  with  a  new  fear  to  think  that  even 
the  city  about  him,  with  its  high  walls  and  im- 
pending roofs,  its  bricks  and  stones  and  uplifting 
spires,  was  unreal  to  ghastliness.  But  even  his 
great  dread  did  not  forbid  his  mind  to  recall  the 
mysteries  of  the  day. 

"  I  know,"  he  said,  as  he  rushed  onward,  "  what 


AN    OLD    FOGY.  249 

it  all  means.  This  is  the  Past.  Some  mighty  hand 
has  swept  away  the  barrier  of  years,  and  plunged 
me  once  more  into  the  midst  of  the  life  that  I  knew 
in  my  youth,  long  ago.  And  I  have  loved  and 
worshipped  that  past.  Blind  and  foolish  man  !  I 
loved  it !  Ah,  how  I  hate  it  now  !  What  a  miser- 
able, miserable  time  it  was !  How  poor  and 
insufficient  life  seems  under  its  conditions  !  How 
meanly  men  crawled  about,  content  with  their 
littleness  and  folly,  and  unconscious  of  the  wisdom 
that  lay  within  their  reach,  ignorant  of  the  vast 
and  wonderful  possibilities  that  human  ingenuity 
might  compass ! " 

"  There  was  nothing  in  that  dreary  past  that  I 
could  love,  excepting  "  —  and  Ephraim  was  almost 
ready  to  weep  as  he  thought  that  the  one  longing 
of  his  soul  could  not  be  realized  — "  excepting 
those  who  were  torn  from  my  arms,  my  heart,  my 
home,  by  the  cruel  hand  of  death." 

The  excitement,  the  distress,  the  anguish,  the 
wild  terror  of  the  day,  came  back  to  him  with 
accumulated  force  as  he  hurried  along  the  footway ; 
and  when  he  reached  his  own  home  he  was  dis- 
tracted, unnerved,  hysterical. 

With  eager  but  uncertain  fingers  he  pushed  open 
the  front  door,  and  went  into  his  sitting-room. 
There  a  fresh  shock  came  to  him,  for  he  saw  his 
wife  in  the  chair  she  had  occupied  in  the  old  time, 
long,  long  ago.     She  arose  to  greet  him,  and   he 


250  AN    OLD    FOGY. 

saw  that  her  dear  face  wore  the  kindly  smile  he  had 
known  so  well,  and  that  had  added  much  to  his 
sum  of  happiness  in  the  years  that  were  gone.  He 
leaped  to  clasp  her  in  his  arms  when  he  heard  the 
sweet  tones  of  her  voice  welcoming  him  ;  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  and  the  sobs  came,  as  he  said, — 

"  Ah,  my  dearest,  my  dearest !  have  you,  too, 
come  up  from  the  dead  past  to  meet  me?  It  was 
you  alone  that  hallowed  it  to  me.  I  loved  —  loved 
you  —  I  — " 

He  felt  his  utterance  choked,  the  room  swam 
before  him,  there  was  a  ringing  noise  in  his  ears, 
he  felt  himself  falling  ;  then  he  lost  consciousness. 

He  knew  nothing  more  until  he  realized  that 
there  was  a  gentle  knocking  near  to  him,  as  of  some 
one  who  demanded  admittance  at  the  door.  He 
roused  himself  with  an  effort,  and  almost  mechan- 
ically said,  — 

"  Come  in." 

He  heard  a  light  step,  and  he  opened  his  eyes. 
He  was  in  his  own  bed-room,  the  room  of  the 
present,  not  of  the  past,  and  in  his  own  bed.  It 
was  Nelly  who  knocked  at  the  door ;  she  stood 
beside  him. 

"  It  is  time  to  get  up,  grandpa,"  she  said. 

"  Wh — where  am  I  .■'  What  has  happened  ? 
Then,  as  his  mind  realized  the  truth,  he  said,  "  Oh, 
Nelly,  Nelly,  how  I  have  suffered." 

"  How,  grandpa  ?  " 


AN   OLD   FOGY.  25  I 

"I  —  I  —  but  never  mind  now,  my  dear;  I  will 
tell  you  after  awhile.  Run  down-stairs  while  I  pre- 
pare for  breakfast.  But,  Nelly,  let  me  tell  you  not 
to  believe  what  I  said  to  you  about  the  glories  of 
the  past ;  it  was  not  true,  my  child,  not  true.  I  have 
learned  better  ;  I  talked  to  you  like  a  foolish  old 
man.  Thank  God,  my  dear,  that  you  live  late  in 
the  world's  history.  No  man  is  more  unwise  or 
more  ungrateful  than  he  who  finds  delight  in  play- 
ing the  part  of  An  Old  Fogy." 


252  MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG. 


MAJOR  DUNWOODY'S  LEG, 

AND   THE   GREAT   POTTAWATOMIE  CLAIM. 


i]T  Gettysburg,  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
third  day  of  July,  1863,  Major  Henry  G. 
Dunwoody,  of  the  483d  Regiment  of 
Pennsylvania  Volunteers,  while  leading  his  men  into 
action,  was  struck  by  a  shell  from  a  Confederate 
battery.  A  moment  later  he  was  lying  upon  the 
ground  unconscious,  and  beside  him  lay  his  left  leg, 
severed  from  his  body  several  inches  above  the  knee. 

When  the  fight  was  over  for  the  day,  the  wounded 
Major  was  placed  in  an  ambulance  and  taken  to  the 
hospital.  A  day  or  two  later,  the  fever  having  left 
him,  he  lay  in  bed  feeling  tolerably  comfortable. 
His  mind  not  unnaturally  turned  to  consideration 
of  his  wound.  He  began  to  think  how  very  incon- 
venient it  would  be  to  have  to  hop  about  on  one 
leg  during  the  remainder  of  his  life,  and  he  couldn't 
help  wondering  where  his  leg  was  and  what  would 
be  its  fate.  He  suspected  they  would  bury  it ;  and 
the  notion  seemed  an  unpleasant  one. 

"  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  being  partially  interred," 


MAJOR   DUNWOODYS   LEG.  253 

he  said  ;  "  and  while  I  am  alive,  too.  I  am  too 
young  a  man  by  half  a  century  to  have  one  foot  in 
the  grave." 

The  latter  suggestion  struck  the  Major  as  being 
rather  a  good  joke.  He  resolved  to  remember  it 
so  that  he  could  tell  the  surgeon. 

The  Major  could  hardly  persuade  himself,  at 
times,  as  he  reflected,  that  he  had  really  lost  his 
leg.  He  had  a  corn  upon  a  certain  toe  which  he 
could  distinctly  feel ;  there  were  strong  sensations 
which  indicated  that  the  leg  was  still  there,  and  he 
could  hardly  resist  the  impulse  to  try  to  lift  it  in 
such  a  vigorous  manner  as  to  kick  off  the  covering 
of  the  bed.  But  he  knew  that  this  was  absurd. 
While  he  was  thinking  about  it  he  suddenly  gave  a 
little  start,  and  a  shiver  ran  through  his  nerves. 
He  felt  as  if  his  leg  had  been  plunged  into  some 
intensely  cold  liquid,  and  before  he  had  quite  re- 
covered from  the  shock  he  was  conscious  of  a  faint 
siiggestion  of  alcohol.  Whether  the  perfume  of  the 
substance  had  actually  greeted  his  nostrils,  or  the 
alcoholic  flavor  had  been  conveyed  to  his  senses  in 
some  other  way,  he  could  not  exactly  define.  He 
did  not  try  very  hard  to  solve  the  problem.  This 
was  only  one  of  the  many  odd  experiences  of  the 
first  forty-eight  hours,  and  he  was  too  feeble  to 
make  such  a  vigorous  mental  effort  as  was  neces- 
sary to  their  proper  solution. 

The  Major  recovered,  and  was  enrolled  in  the  In- 


254  MAJOR   DUNWOODYS   LEG. 

valid  Corps.  During  the  succeeding  three  or  four 
years  he  drew  his  pay,  lived  an  easy  life,  and  de- 
voted much  of  his  time  to  experimenting  upon  arti- 
ficial legs  of  various  patterns.  He  never  succeeded 
in  finding  one  that  suited  him  exactly,  and  in  the 
course  of  time  he  collected  quite  a  curious  lot  of 
wooden  and  cork  legs,  which  he  kept  standing 
about  in  the  corners  of  his  room  at  his  boarding- 
house  in  Washington,  and  which  were  perpetually 
a  source  of  nervous  dread  to  the  chambermaid,  who 
lived  in  expectation  that  some  day  they  would  fly 
out  at  her  and  kick  her  downstairs. 

One  day  the  Major,  while  strolling  along  the 
street,  passed  the  door  of  the  Army  Medical  Mu- 
seum, an  institution  into  which  has  been  gathered 
by  the  government  a  very  large  number  of  medical 
and  surgical  curiosities  taken  from  the  various 
battle-fields  of  the  rebellion.  It  is  the  most  hor- 
ribly interesting  place  in  the  city  of  Washington 
—  that  is,  to  the  ordinary  lay  observer.  The  sur- 
geons and  doctors,  of  course,  regard  its  trophies 
with  gleeful  enthusiasm.  To  others  it  serves  per- 
haps a  good  purpose  in  suggesting  some  distinct 
notion  of  the  fearful  suffering  which  was  the  price 
paid  for  the  salvation  of  the  Government,  and  it 
may  perform  a  useful  oflfice  in  the  future  by  indi- 
cating to  persons  who  are  burning  with  a  desire 
for  war  and  glory,  that  glory  is  one  of  the  least 
obvious  fruits  of  murderous  strife. 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG.  255 

It  occurred  to  the  Major  to  enter  the  building  ; 
and  for  half  an  hour  he  wandered  about  among  the 
glass  cases,  studying  curiously  the  strangely  dis- 
torted fragments  of  the  poor  human  body  which 
are  there  preserved.  As  he  turned  the  corner  of 
one  large  case,  he  saw  something  that  induced  him 
to  halt.  A  brief  distance  in  front  of  him  sat  a 
woman  intently  engaged  in  drawing  upon  a  piece  of 
pasteboard  which  stood  upon  a  small  easel.  It  was 
so  unexpected  a  sight  that  the  Major  could  not  re- 
sist the  impulse  to  observe  her  for  a  moment.  She 
seemed  young  and  fair ;  a  mass  of.  bright  golden 
hair  fell  upon  her  shoulders,  and  as  she  turned  her 
head  to  look  at  something  in  one  of  the  cases  that 
she  seemed  to  be  sketching,  the  Major  saw  that  her 
profile  was  exceedingly  pretty. 

He  came  a  step  or  two  closer,  and  noticed  by 
means  of  a  hurried  glance  that  she  had  a  strange 
figure  of  some  kind  upon  the  board  ;  and  then  he 
passed  on. 

Just  as  he  got  close  to  her  his  artificial  leg  —  a 
leg  that  he  had  received  a  few  days  before  by 
steamer  from  France  —  suddenly  launched  out 
sideways.  It  encountered  the  foot  of  the  easel, 
and  the  next  instant  Major  Dunwoody  lay  sprawl- 
ing upon  the  floor,  with  the  easel  across  his 
back  and  the  pasteboard  picture  lying  upon  his 
head.  He  recovered  himself  promptly,  and  turning 
to  the  fair  artist,  who  stood  above  him  with  a  look 


256  MAJOR    DUNWOODY's   LEG. 

of  mingled  vexation  and  amusement  upon  her 
face,  said, — 

"I  —  I  —  really  I  am  very  sorry.  It  is  shocking, 
but  I  assure  you  I  couldn't  help  it.  I  am  suffering 
from  a  wound,  and  —  and"  (the  Major  did  not  Hke 
to  confess  so  openly  to  his  dismemberment);  "and 
in  fact  I  had  not  complete  control  of  myself." 

The  Major  was  a  handsome  man,  and  either  his 
appearance,  his  pleading  look,  the  pathetic  tone  of 
his  voice,  or  all  combined,  touched  the  artist's  heart 
with  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  never  mind,"  she  said,  smiling,  as  the  Major 
thought,  more  sweetly  than  woman  ever  smiled  be- 
fore. "  No  harm  is  done.  I  hope  you  didn't  hurt 
yourself" 

"  You  are  very  kind.  No,  I  am  not  hurt ;  but  I 
am  greatly  mortified  at  the  trouble  I  have  caused 
you,  I  hardly  know  how  to  express  my  disgust  for 
my  clumsiness." 

"  Pray  do  not  distress  yourself  about  it,"  said  the 
artist,  laughing ;  "  the  easel  is  not  broken  and  the 
sketch  is  wholly  uninjured.  I  should  not  have 
mourned  if  it  had  been  destroyed.  It  is  a  mere 
study,  and  very  incomplete." 

"  You  are  too  generous,"  replied  the  Major  ;  "  but 
I  will  take  good  care  not  to  disturb  you  again,  if  I 
can  find  my  way  out  of  here.  Would  you  —  would 
you  —  be  —  be  —  would  you  be  good  enough  to  call 
the  janitor,  or  somebody,  to  help  to  get  me  upon 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  257 

my  feet  again  ?    I  cannot  rise  without  —  in  fact, 
my  wound  is  —  is  — " 

"  I  shall  be  more  than  glad  to  assist  you,"  said 
the  artist,  with  a  glance  of  pity  in  her  blue  eyes, 
"  if  you  will  take  my  hand." 

The  Major  looked  at  the  hand  for  a  moment.  It 
was  extremely  pretty ;  he  had  an  impulse  to  kiss 
it,  but  he  restrained  himself.  He  merely  clasped 
it  in  his  own.  The  artist  braced  herself  firmly,  and 
the  next  instant  the  Major  stood  upright. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  I  can  thank  you  for  your 
kindness,"  he  said,  "  but  permit  me  to  offer  you  my 
card.  I  have  some  influence,  and  if  I  can  ever 
serve  you  in  any  way  I  shall  greatly  rejoice." 

"  Major  Dunwoody  !  Indeed  ! "  exclaimed  the 
artist,  as  she  read  the  name.  "  You  are  not  one  of 
the  Dunwoodys  of  Clarion  County,  Pennsylvania, 
are  you  ?  " 

"I  was  born  there,"  replied  the  Major  with  not  a 
little  eagerness.  He  thought  he  saw  a  chance 
to  acquire  better  acquaintance  with  this  lovely 
and  gifted  woman.  "  Do  you  know  any  of  our 
folks  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  artist,  with  a  bright  smile. 
"  My  mother  came  from  Clarion  County.  She  was 
a  Hunsicker,  a  daughter  of  Hon.  John  Hunsicker, 
who  represented  the  district  in  the  forty-first  Con- 
gress. I  have  often  heard  her  speak  of  the  Dun- 
woodys." 


258  MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

"  Indeed,"  replied  the  Major.  "  I  knew  your 
grandfather  well  when  I  was  a  boy." 

The  conversation  need  not  be  given  in  detail. 
The  artist  and  the  Major  developed  at  some  length 
how  a  Hunsicker  married  a  Dunwoody ;  how  a 
Dunwoody  eloped  with  a  Moyer,  a  cousin  of  the 
Hunsickers  ;  how  a  Dunwoody  fought  a  duel  with 
another  Hunsicker  over  a  political  dispute,  and 
shook  hands  afterwards ;  and  how  the  loves  and 
hates,  and  bargains  and  enterprises,  and  contests 
and  schemes  of  the  Dunwoodys  and  Hunsickers 
had  filled  the  history  of  Clarion  County  for  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  past. 

At  last  the  Major  said, — 

"  But  you  haven't  given  me  jyur  name  yet." 

"  Pandora  M'Duffy  is  my  name.  My  mother, 
you  know,  married  Senator  M'Duffy,  state  senator. 
Poor  father  died  many  years  ago,  and  we  are  now 
living  in  Washington." 

"Studying  art,  I  presume .-'"  asked  the  Major, 
glancing  at  the  easel. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Pandora ;  "  I  am  an  artist." 

"Is  not  this  rather  —  rather  a  —  a  queer  place 
to  come  to  for  sketches  }  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Pandora,  laughing ;  "  I  came 
here  to  study  anatomy  for  a  great  picture  I  am 
going  to  paint.  You  see  what  that  is  .■*  "  said  she, 
lifting  the  cardboard,  and  showing  the  sketch  to 
the  Major. 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  259 

"  That  is  a  —  a  —  I  should  say  that  was  a  pic- 
ture of  —  well,  of  the  elbow  of  a  stove-pipe. 
Isn't  it?" 

"You  are  not  very  complimentary,"  said  Pan- 
dora. "  I  know  it  is  very  raw  and  unfinished;  but 
it  is  at  least  a  fair  likeness  of  that  human  leg  in 
the  jar  of  alcohol  over  there." 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  So  it  is,  so  it  is  ;  astonishing 
likeness  !  How  stupid  I  am !  To  be  sure.  The 
very  image  of  it." 

"  Come  now,  I  know  you  don't  think  so  !  You 
are  flattering  me  !  " 

*'  No,  indeed.  It  is  wonderful  !  But  —  why, 
bless  my  soul,  what  on  earth  do  you  want  a  picture 
of  such  a  thing  as  that  for  .'' " 

"  For  my  great  painting,"  said  Pandora,  with  a 
pretty  little  laugh.  "  I  am  preparing  a  picture, 
thirty-eight  feet  by  twenty-seven  feet,  of  George 
Washington  cutting  down  his  father's  cherry-tree 
with  his  little  hatchet." 

"  What  for  .?  " 

"  I  expect  to  sell  it  to  the  Government,  and  to 
have  it  placed  among  the  other  historical  pictures 
in  the  rotunda  of  the  Capitol." 

"  But  you  are  not  going  to  put  this  leg  in  the 
picture  .-'  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  represent  George  as  being  barefooted, 
and  having  one  trouser-leg  rolled  up." 

"  But  then,  I  don't  exactly  see  how  —  well,  but 
George  was  a  boy,  and  this  is  a  man's  leg." 


26o  MAJOR   DUNWOODY's   LEG. 

"  I  know,  but  I  am  drawing  all  the  figures  on  a 
heroic  scale." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  the  Major.  Then  he  added,  "  But  I 
must  bid  you  good  morning." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  you  come  to  see 
me,"  said  Pandora. 

"  I  assure  you  it  will  give  me  much  pleasure  to 
do  so,"  answered  the  Major,  with  a  feeling  of  ex- 
ultation. 

Then  he  bowed  politely,  and  withdrew. 

When  Pandora  reached  home,  she  showed  Major 
Dunwoody's  card  to  her  mother,  and  told  her  of  the 
adventure  at  the  Museum. 

Mrs.  M'Duffy  sat  upon  the  sofa  and  listened. 
She  was  a  woman  of  distinguished  appearance  ;  of 
large  frame,  not  corpulent,  but  rounded  rather  more 
than  positive  beauty  seemed  to  require.  Having 
the  carriage  of  a  queen,  with  a  finely-shaped  head, 
a  strongly-defined  chin,  held  well  up,  an  aquiline 
nose,  and  piercing  black  eyes,  Mrs.  M'Duffy  im- 
pressed the  observer  with  a  sense  of  power.  The 
mother  of  the  Gracchi  might  have  been  such  a 
woman.  If  Mrs.  M'Duffy  had  been  born  to  a 
throne,  she  would  have  left  her  impress  distinctly 
upon  the  history  of  nations. 

Mrs.  M'Duffy  was  familiar  with  the  world.  She 
was  a  woman  who  quickly  comprehended  possi- 
bilities. She  clearly  foresaw  that  Major  Dun- 
woody  might   have   an   influence  upon  the  future 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG.  26 1 

of  Pandora,  and  the  prospect  was  not  pleasing 
to  her. 

"Pandora,"  she  said,  "I  trust  you  did  not  ask 
this  man  to  call  .''  " 

"  Yes,  I  did,  mother." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it.  I  never  liked  his  branch 
of  the  Dunvvoodys.  His  father  was  mixed  up 
with  some  very  suspicious  land  speculations,  and 
he  died  insolvent.  Major  Dunvvoody  has  nothing 
but  his  pay.  You  must  treat  him  with  coolness 
when  he  comes." 

"  Why } " 

"  Why !  Why,  because  it  is  very  necessary  that 
you  should  give  him  no  encouragement  of  any 
kind.  He  is  not  a  desirable  match  for  you.  Be- 
sides, you  owe  it  to  your  family  now  to  offer  every 
opportunity  to  Achilles  Smith.  Mr.  Smith  wor- 
ships you  !  " 

"  And  I  hate  him,"  said  Pandora,  vigorously. 

"  Hate  him,  my  child  ?  Why,  how  absurd  ! 
Mr.  Smith  is  a  very  charming  man,  and  when  he 
gets  his  Pottawatomie  claim  through  Congress,  he 
will  be  rich." 

"  He  will  never  get  it  through ;  and  I  won't 
have  him,  if  he  does  !  " 

"  Never  get  it  through.  Pandora !  Didn't  Gen- 
eral Belcher,  the  member  for  the  ninety-sixth 
Kansas  district,  and  his  bosom  friend,  assure  me 
positively  that  it  would  be  approved  during  the 
present  session  ^ " 


262  MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

"  His  claim  is  ridiculous.  Congress  will  never 
allow  it." 

"  My  dear  !  Pray  don't  be  absurd  !  His  claim 
is  quite  as  reasonable  as  thousands  of  similar 
claims.  The  Pottawatomie  Indians  scalped  him  in 
1 862,  and  he  very  properly  asks  the  legislature  of 
his  country  to  compel  the  savages  to  make  repara- 
tion by  surrendering  two  million  acres  of  their 
reservation,  I  cannot  see  anything  ridiculous 
about  that.  If  he  succeeds,  he  will  be  the  largest 
individual  land-owner  in  the  West." 

"If  he  succeeds  !  " 

"  But  General  Belcher,  who  is  pushing  his  case 
in  Congress,  and  who  is  to  share  the  property  with 
him,  positively  declares  that  he  will  succeed.  The 
General,  also,  makes  your  acceptance  of  Achilles 
the  condition  of  his  championship  of  your  picture. 
He  says  that  Congress  shall  buy  that  picture  upon 
the  day  that  you  marry  Achilles  Smith  !  " 

"  General  Belcher  is  simply  disgusting,  mother. 
I  would  never  think  of  accepting  a  favor  from 
him." 

"  Not  when  his  exertions  can  lift  you  and  your 
mother  out  of  poverty,  Pandora  .-*  You  talk  most 
unreasonably." 

"  I  mean  what  I  say,"  said  Pandora  firmly. 

"Very  well,  Miss,  we  shall  see,"  replied  Mrs. 
M'Duffy,  rising  and  sweeping  majestically  from 
the  room. 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG.  263 

Major  Dunwoody  called  upon  that  very  evening. 
He  called  again  the  next  evening.  He  called  fre- 
quently upon  following  evenings ;  and  although 
Mrs.  M'Duffy  treated  him  with  coldness  which 
bordered  upon  disdain,  the  Major's  infatuation  for 
Pandora  was  so  strong  that  he  forgot  Mrs.  M'Dufify's 
incivility  in  rejoicing  over  the  exceeding  gracious- 
ness  of  her  daughter. 

The  Major  was  convinced  that  Pandora  loved 
him,  but  he  hesitated  to  take  practical  measures 
to  ascertain  the  fact,  because  he  could  not  sum- 
mon up  a  sufficient  amount  of  resolution  to  tell 
her  the  truth  about  the  loss  of  his  leg.  He  was 
far  too  honorable  to  deceive  her  respecting  his 
misfortune  until  she  had  committed  herself  to 
him,  and  he  was  haunted  by  apprehension  that  she 
might  reject  him  when  she  knew  the  actual  state 
of  the  case.  A  catastrophe  brought  matters  to 
a  crisis. 

One  Sunday  evening  the  Major  escorted  Pan- 
dora to  church.  During  the  worship  the  Major  felt 
his  French  leg  give  several  very  strange  twitches, 
and  he  could  hear  a  clicking  sound  in  the  knee  as 
if  some  of  the  springs  were  loose  and  moving  about 
in  an  independent  manner.  Pandora  noticed  the 
noise  too,  and  leaned  over  to  ask  the  Major,  in  a 
whisper,  if  there  was  not  a  mouse  running  about 
upon  the  floor  of  the  pew.  The  Major  said  he  did 
not  think  there  was. 


264  MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

Pandora  whispered  that  it  sounded  rather  more 
like,  machinery. 

The  Major  faintly  intimated  that  it  might  pro- 
ceed from  the  gas  meter  in  the  cellar,  or  perhaps 
the  people  in  the  gallery  were  fixing  something 
about  the  organ. 

The  Major  had  always  rather  doubted  the  springs 
in  the  knee-joint  of  the  French  leg.  They  im- 
pressed him  as  being  far  more  complicated  and  in- 
genious than  was  necessary  for  simple  purposes  of 
locomotion.  He  was  thinking  about  them  tremu- 
lously when  the  sermon  began.  The  preacher  had 
hardly  announced  his  text  when  the  Major's  leg 
suddenly  flew  up,  kicked  the  bonnet  upon  the 
head  of  the  lady  in  front  of  him  over  the  wearer's 
eyes,  and  finally  the  leg  fell  upon  the  top  of  the 
back  of  the  pew,  where  it  kicked  away  vigorously. 
The  Major,  blushing  crimson,  grasped  it  and  pulled 
it  down  by  a  severe  effort.  The  wearer  of  the 
bonnet  looked  at  him  with  indignation.  Pandora 
seemed  ready  to  faint. 

When  the  Major  let  go  his  hold  of  the  leg  it 
bounced  up  again,  and  performed  the  most  eccen- 
tric movements  upon  the  back  of  the  pew.  Pan- 
dora could  not  suppress  a  faint  scream  ;  and  the 
entire  congregation-  stared  at  the  miserable  Major 
as  he  seized  the  leg  and  thrust  it  down  into  the 
pew.  He  held  it  down  firmly,  but  the  springs 
were  strong,  and  they  forced  the  toes  to  beat  a 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY's   LEG.  265 

wild  tattoo  upon  the  wooden  partition  in  front  of 
them. 

In  an  agony  of  mortification,  the  Major  rose, 
with  the  intention  to  leave  the  building.  The  sex- 
ton, who  had  approached  him  to  ascertain  the 
cause  of  the  disturbance,  gave  him  his  arm,  and 
the  Major  hopped  down  the  aisle  with  his  horrible 
leg  flying  out  behind  and  before  in  a  convulsive 
manner,  kicking  the  sexton,  banging  pew-doors, 
and  behaving  generally  in  a  most  sensational  and 
excitipg  manner. 

Pandora  followed  her  lover  at  a  .short  distance. 
When  the  porch  of  the  church  was  reached,  the 
leg  was  still  in  a  condition  of  violent  agitation,  and 
the  Major,  wild  with  shame  and  rage,  said  to  the 
sexton, — 

"  Take  it  off!     Unbuckle  it !    Take  it  off  quick  ! " 

The  sexton  bravely  approached,  fumbled  about 
for  a  moment  in  search  of  the  strap,  and  an  instant 
later  the  Major's  imported  leg  lay  upon  the  carpet 
squirming  about,  kicking  viciously,  and  leaping 
hither  and  thither  like  a  wounded  and  desperate 
animal. 

"  Call  a  carriage,"  gasped  the  Major,  as  he  leaned 
against  the  wall. 

The  sexton  dispatched  a  boy  for  a  vehicle,  and 
when  it  came  he  placed  the  Major  within,  helped 
Pandora  to  a  seat,  and  the  party  moved  toward 
home. 


266  MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

For  a  little  while  neither  the  Major  nor  Pandora 
spoke.  The  situation  seemed  too  awful  for  words. 
The  silence  was  becoming  embarrassing,  when  sud- 
denly Pandora  said,  — 

"  Poor  man  !  " 

"  What,  are  you  sorry  for. me  ? "  asked  the  Major 
eagerly. 

"  Indeed  I  am.     How  you  must  have  suffered  !  " 

"  I  thought  you  would  hate  me  for  subjecting 
you  to  such  mortification," 

"  But  you  couldn't  help  it,  I  would  be,  very 
unjust  to  blame  you." 

"And  you  do  not  dislike  me  because  I  am  so 
crippled  ? " 

"  How  could  I .''  You  are  a  soldier.  You  lost 
your  leg  honorably,  did  you  not .'' " 

"  It  was  shot  away  at  Gettysburg." 

"  You  lost  it  to  save  my  country,  and  you  think 
I  would  not  honor  you  for  such  a  sacrifice  ? " 

"  Your  kind  words  make  me  brave.  If  I  might 
dare  —  " 

"  Such  a  hero  as  you  may  dare  anything,"  she 
said. 

"  May  I  dare  to  ask  if,  while  you  honor  me,  you 
can  also  love  me  ? " 

"  You  may  ;  and  if  you  do,  I  will  answer  '  Yes.'  " 

"  You  are  an  angel ! "  exclaimed  the  Major. 

They  expressed  their  emotion  in  a  very  usual 
manner,  which  need  not  be  described.     When  the 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG,  25/ 

carriage  turned  into  the  street  upon  which  Pandora 
hved,  she  said,  — • 

"  Henry  dear,  —  I  may  call  you  Henry,  mayn't 
I  ?  —  where  is  your  leg  ? " 

*'  I  left  it  squirming  about  in  the  church  porch." 

"  No  ;  I  mean  your  real  one,  dear.  The  leg  that 
was  shot  off." 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea.     Buried,  I  suppose." 

Pandora  was  silent  and  thoughtful  for  a  moment. 
Then  she  said,  — 

"Isn't  it  barely  possible  that  one  of  those  legs 
preserved  at  the  Medical  Museum  is  yours  ? " 

"  Well,  I  declare  I  never  thought  of  that !  Per- 
haps mine  is  there." 

"  The  one  I  was  sketching  on  the  day  I  first  met 
you  was  labelled  —  'Gettysburg,  July  3rd,  1863.' 
Maybe  that  was  it." 

"  I  will  go  around  to-morrow  and  examine  it.  It 
would  be  very  odd,  Pandora  dearest,  if  it  should  be 
mine.     Wouldn't  it  .<* " 

"  Very.  But  I  want  you  to  make  me  a  promise. 
If  it  should  be  yours,  will  you  get  it  and  give  it  to 
me } " 

"  If  I  can  I  will.  But  what  on  earth  do  you 
want  it  for  } " 

"  For  two  reasons  I  want  it :  first,  because  if  I  am 
to  marry  you  I  have  a  legal  right  to  all  of  you  ;  and, 
second,  because  my  George  Washington  has  been 
standing  upon  one  leg  beside  the  cherry-tree  for 


26S  MAJOR    DUNWOODY's   LEG. 

three  weeks  now,  for  the  reason  that  I  can't  make 
a  satisfactory  study  of  his  other  leg." 

"Pandora,  I  will  gratify  you  if  human  energy  is 
equal  to  the  task.  The  impulses  of  an  undying 
affection,  not  less  than  a  fervid  regard  for  the 
interests  of  high  art,  shall  nerve  me  to  the  work." 

"  Thank  you,  darling  !  "  she  said. 

Then. the  carriage  stopped  at  the  M'Dufify  front 
door.  Pandora  alighted,  rang  the  bell,  kissed  her 
hand  and  disappeared,  while  the  Major  drove  home 
in  ecstasy  to  brood  upon  his  unexpected  happiness, 
and  to  fit  himself  with  a  Government  leg  that  was 
numbered  among  the  best  in  his  collection. 

The  next  morning  he  went  around  to  the  Medical 
Museum  and  examined  Exhibit  1307  in  Case  25, 
being  the  leg  which  Pandora  had  proposed  to  pass 
on  to  immortality  by  attaching  a  representation  of  it 
to  her  picture  of  George  Washington. 

The  Major  could  not  say  with  positiveness  that 
the  leg  was  his,  but  his  impression  that  it  belonged  to 
him  was  strengthened  by  certain  scars  that  seemed 
to  be  familiar,  among  them  one  which  called  up 
memories  of  a  dog-bite  obtained  in  a  Clarion 
County  orchard  away  back  in  the  years  of  his 
boyhood. 

A  thought  struck  him.  He  called  the  janitor, 
and  slipping  a  coin  into  his  hand,  he  explained  the 
case  to  that  officer.  At  the  Major's  suggestion  the 
janitor  removed   the  specimen   from  the  alcohol, 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY's   LEG.  269 

and  trod  heavily  upon  the  excrescence  upon  the 
toe.  The  Major  yelled  with  pain.  The  identity  of 
the  limb  was  definitely  ascertained. 

"  I  will  recover  possession  of  that  leg,"  said  the 
Major  as  he  left  the  building,  "  if  I  have  to  buy  the 
entire  collection  ! " 


270  MAJOR    DUNWOODYS    LEG. 


CHAPTER   II. 

ENERAL  William  Henry  Harrison  Belcher, 
member  of  Congress  from  the  ninety- 
sixth  Kansas  district,  sat  in  his  room  at 
his  hotel  one  evening,  with  his  feet  upon  the  table, 
a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  a  glass  containing  a 
mysterious  liquid  preparation  beside  him. 

In  appearance  the  General  was  a  man  of  mark. 
His  thick  gray  hair  covered  a  noble  head ;  his  nose 
was  large  and  curved  in  bold  lines  indicating 
strength  ;  his  face  was  closely  shaven  and  rather 
inclined  to  pallor.  He  had  eyes  that  seemed  to 
pierce  the  person  upon  whom  they  rested,  and 
when  he  used  his  feet  to  stand  upon,  instead  of 
devoting  them  to  purely  ornamental  purposes,  as 
at  present,  his  figure  appeared  tall  and  slender  and 
comely.  Those  who  did  not  know  the  General 
imagined,  when  they  saw  him  in  the  Capitol,  that 
he  was  some  distinguished  statesman  upon  whom 
rested  the  weight  of  a  nation's  business.  Those 
who  knew  him,  on  the  contrary,  were  aware  that  he 
was  a  man  of  no  education,  no  skill  in  higher 
politics,  and  no  principles  worth  mentioning.     He 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  2/1 

had  begun  life  as  a  mule-driver  on  the  plains,  but 
one  day  he  contrived  to  obtain  a  contract  for 
supplying  a  certain  Indian  agency  with  cattle.  The 
Government  paid  him  for  fat  steers,  and  he  furnished 
the  oldest  and  leanest  cows  he  could  find  west  of 
the  Mississippi,  and  when  they  were  weighed  in 
pairs,  he  and  his  drover  stood  on  the  scale  each 
time  so  as  to  bring  the  aggregate  weight  up  to  a 
comfortable  figure.  He  made  a  small  fortune  at 
this  business,  and  then  he  bought  his  way  into  the 
Legislature,  and  subsequently  into  Congress,  his 
purpose  being  not  so  much  to  give  his  suffering 
country  the  benefit  of  his  skill  as  a  legislator,  as  to 
open  for  himself  larger  opportunities  to  acquire 
wealth  at  his  country's  expense.  He  had  succeeded 
in  several  enterprises  of  the  kind  which  had  engaged 
his  attention  since  he  came  to  Washington,  and  now 
he  was  devoting  attention  to  his  great  scheme  for 
seizing  the  Pottawatomie  Reservation  as  a  matter 
of  retributive  justice  to  its  savage  owners.  As  he 
sat  in  his  room,  thinking  upon  the  subject,  he  heard 
a  knock  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in  !  "  said  the  General. 

Achilles  Smith  entered. 

"  Hello,  Kill ! "  said  the  General,  still  keeping  his 
feet  upon  the  table,     "  Take  a  chair," 

Mr.  Smith  sat  down. 

•*  What'll  you  have .'' "  asked  the  General. 

"  Cocktail." 


272  MAJOR   DUN  WOOD  y's   LEG. 

"Mix  one." 

Mr.  Smith  prepared  the  beverage,  placed  himself 
swiftly  outside  of  it,  elevated  his  feet  until  they 
rested  close  to  those  of  the  General,  and  said,  — 

"  Well,  how  does  the  old  thing  work  ^  " 

"  Oh,  pretty  well !  tolerable  !  The  Committee 
have  promised  to  consider  your  case  to-morrow, 
and  I  want  you  to  be  on  hand,  ready  to  tell  your 
story.     You've  got  it  straight,  I  reckon  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  by  heart." 

"  Let's  see.  Your  theory  is  that  you  were 
scalped  by  a  Pottawatomie  Indian  in  1862.  Now, 
where  is  that  scalp  .-• " 

"  In  -my  trunk.  Between  ourselves,  you  know, 
I  bought  it  of  an  Indian  in  Laramie  year  before 
last." 

"Very  well.  Now,  what  is  the  name  of  the 
Indian  who  scalped  you  .-* " 

"  Jumping  Antelope,  a  chief." 

"  Under  what  circumstances  ?  " 

"I  was  trying  to  convert  him  by  reading  the 
Scriptures  to  him." 

"  See  here.  Kill,  isn't  that  a  little  thin  ?  He 
couldn't  understand  the  language,  you  know.  I'm 
afraid  that  won't  wash." 

"  I  translated  it  as  I  went  along." 

"  S'pos'n'  the  Committee  ask  you  to  prove  that 
you  know  the  language  .-* "        • 

"  I'll  get  off  some  gibberish,  and  you  can  as- 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  2/3 

sure  them  that  you  recognize  it  as  pure  Potta- 
watomie." 

"  Very  well.  Now,  what  particular  part  of  the 
—  the  —  Scriptures  were  you  reading  to  him?" 

"I  dunno.  Let's  see;  what  are  some  of  the 
books?" 

"  Don't  ask  me  ;  I'm  not  very  well  posted.  We 
used  to  have  a  Bible  out  in  the  Kansas  Legisla- 
ture, to  swear  members  on,  but  they  always  kept  a 
string  tied  around  it,  and  after  it  was  stolen  a  ru- 
mor got  around  that  the  clerk  swore  a  whole  House 
of  Representatives  in  on  Kidderminster's  Digest 
of  the  State  Laws." 

"  Jonah  's  the  only  book  I  recall  very  distinctly 
now." 

"  That'll  do,  if  you  can  remember  something  in 
it.  I  connect  it  indistinctly  with  reminiscences  of 
a  whale." 

"Yes.  Well,  I  was  trying  to  convert  that  In- 
dian by  reading  to  him  about  Jonah  and  the  whale, 
when  he  rose  up  suddenly  and  began  fumbling 
about  my  hair  with  a  carving-knife." 

"  The  Committee  may  go  into  detail.  Now, 
why  did  he  do  this  ?  Is  the  narrative  calculated 
in  any  way  to  excite  the  nervous  system  of  an  un- 
tutored child  of  the  forest  ? " 

"  No-no-no ! " 

"  Nothing  in  it  about  depriving  persons  of  their 
hair  ?     Don't  say  Jonah  was  scalped,  hey  ? " 


274  MAJOR   DUNWOODYS   LEG. 

"  No." 

**  Did  your  assailant  accompany  the  act  with  any 
conversation  ? " 

"  He  merely  remarked  '  How  ! '  and  I  thought  I 
caught  some  rather  indistinct  reference  to  the 
Happy  Hunting  Grounds ;  but  I'll  only  swear  to 
'  How.' " 

"  *  How  ! '  They  always  say  that.  It  indicates 
almost  anything,  from  ferocious  animosity  to  a 
desire  to  borrow  plug  tobacco.  Then  he  took 
your  hair,  did  he  .-'" 

"  Sawed  it  right  out,  and  would  have  murdered 
me  if  I  had  not  fled." 

"You  dropped  the  Bible  when  you  ran  }" 

"  Yes,  after  snatching  my  scalp  from  his  hand." 

"  Well,  Kill,  I  think  maybe  that  yarn'll  pass. 
It's  not  first-rate,  but  there  are  three  men  in  the 
Committee  who  want  my  vote  for  claims  of  theirs, 
and  I  have  an  idea  they'll  back  us  through  thick 
and  thin.  My  boy,  don't  call  me  a  prophet  if  we 
don't  snatch  that  Reservation  before  the  session 's 
out.     It  looks  to  me  like  a  sure  thing." 

"  I'd  like  to  be  as  sure  of  something  else  I'm 
after,"  said  Smith,  rather  sadly. 

"  What's  that  ? " 

"The  M'Duffy  girl." 

"You  shall  have  her,  Kill,  you  shall  have  her. 
The  old  lady  has  promised  me,  positively." 

"I  thought  so  myself  at  first,  but  there  is  an- 
other man  in  the  way  now." 


MAJOR    DUNWOODYS    LEG.  2/5 

"  Who  is  he  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  one-legged  army  man.  She's  taken  a 
fancy  to  him,  her  mother  tells  me.  He  has  a  leg 
up  here  in  the  Medical  Museum,  and  she  fell  in 
love  with  that  first  and  it  spread  to  the  rest  of  him 
afterwards,  gradually." 

"  That's  original,  anyhow." 

"  Wants  to  paint  that  preserved  leg  in  her  pic- 
ture. Going  to  dovetail  it  on  to  Washington.  If 
he  can  get  the  leg  out  of  the  Museum  she  prom- 
ises to  marry  him." 

"  Well,  /'//  put  a  stop  to  ///«/.  I'll  introduce  a 
bill  forfeiting  to  the  Government  for  ever  all  the 
odd  legs  in  the  Museum.  Kill,  you  mind  what  I 
tell  you,  and  Pandora  shall  make  j*??/  her  model  in- 
stead of  this  military  ruin  who  is  sparking  her." 

"  I'd  like  to  feel  certain  of  that." 

"  You  may ;  depend  on  me.  A  man  with  my 
war  record  needn't  fear  to  offer  himself  to  any 
—  what  is  this  fellow.?  Major,  hey.?  — Well,  I'll 
risk  offending  any  major  in  the  service." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  had  any  war  record." 

"  Ain't  I  a  General .? " 

"  Oh,  I  know,  but  you  can't  throw  a  brick  in  the 
street  without  mowing  down  a  couple  of  Gener- 
als—  peace  men  from  principle." 

"  But  I  have  seen  war,  my  boy !  I  was  in  the 
army,  only  as  a  Captain,  I  admit.  But  I  smelt 
powder.     Kill,  I  was  distinguished  for  one  thing : 


276  MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

Other  officers  always  lost  their  men,  but  I  never 
had  a  fight  that  I  didn't  bring  out  one-third  more 
men  than  I  took  in." 

"  You  ought  to  have  been  promoted.  Was  it 
your  war  record  that  took  you  to  Congress  ?  " 

"  No,  sir  ;  it  was  brains  —  pure  intellect  —  that 
did  that.  You  know  my  district .''  Not  a  railroad  in 
it.  Not  enough,  business  to  pay  for  the  grease  on 
the  engines  if  there  was  a  railroad.  Of  course, 
under  such  circumstances,  the  one  thing  all  the 
people  want  worse  than  anything  else  is  a  railroad. 
People  always  want  what  they  can't  get." 

"  Of  course." 

"  So  as  soon  as  I  was  nominated  I  hired  four 
hundred  men,  divided  them  into  squads,  fitted 
them  out  with  rods  and  chains  and  theodolites  and 
other  surveying  apparatus,  and  started  them  all 
over  the  district,  pretending  to  run  lines.  A  squad 
would  burst  into  a  man's  potato-patch  and  go  to 
work.  The  owner  would  rush  out  and  say,  '  What 
in  thunder  you  fellows  a-doin'  in  that  potato-patch  .? ' 
And  they'd  say,  '  We're  surveying  the  route  for 
old  Belcher's  railroad.'  Then  the  man  would  fly 
into  the  house  and  tell  his  wife  that  Belcher  was 
going  to  run  a  railroad  through  his  property,  and 
they'd  go  wild  with  joy.  Kill,  I  carried  that  dis- 
trict by  fifteen  hundred  majority  over  a  man  who 
under  other  circumstances  would  have  beaten  me 
out  of  my  boots." 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG,  2// 

"That  was  genius,  sir  !  nothing  but  pure  genius." 

"  I  think  so  ;  genius  for  statesmanship  ;  not  such 
statesmanship  as  they  have  in  the  played-out  des- 
potisms of  Europe,  but  the  kind  that  is  needed  in  a 
new  country." 

"  I  say,  Belcher,  how  would  it  do  for  you  and  me 
to  go  around  and  call  on  old  Mrs.  M'Duffy .-'  I've  a 
notion  to  go." 

"I'm  willing.  Maybe  we  can  settle  the  case  of 
that  dilapidated  Major." 

Mrs.  M'Duffy  was  at  home  when  the  General 
and  Mr.  Smith  called,  and  she  received  them  with 
much  cordiality. 

The  conversation  naturally  turned  at  an  early 
moment  to  the  subject  of  Smith's  claim. 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Smith,"  said  Mrs.  M'Duffy, 
"  your  claim  rests,  I  think  you  said,  upon  the  fact 
that  you  were  scalped .''  Your  head  has  not  that  ap- 
pearance." 

"  Oh,  no  !  You  see,  madam,  that  in  the  lapse  of 
years  the  wound  has  healed  ;  a  new  scalp  has  grad- 
ually formed,  so  that  now  I  appear  to  be  merely 
bald.  I  have  the  original  scalp  at  home  in  my 
trunk." 

"  How  very  interesting.  Were  you  ever  scalped, 
General  ? " 

"  No,  ma'am,  never.  My  custom  has  been  to 
take  scalps,  not  to  lose  them." 

"  The  General  is  an  old  Indian  fighter,"  observed 
Achilles. 


2/8  MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

"  I  was  not  aware  of  the  fact,"  said  Mrs.  M'Duffy. 
"You  are  familiar  therefore  with  the  plains.  Did 
you  ever  visit  the  Pottawatomie  Reservation  —  Mr. 
Smith's  prospective  property  ? " 

"  Frequently,  ma'am.  It's  the  handsomest  tract 
of  ground  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains." 

*'  You  propose  to  live  on  it,  when  you  get  it,  do 
you  not,  Mr.  Smith  .' "      , 

"  On  part  of  it.  Half  goes  to  the  General ;  then 
I  shall  reserve  5000  acres  for  myself  and  dispose  of 
the  remainder  to  settlers.  If  I  am  successful  in 
my  suit  with  your  daughter  I  shall  build  a  house  in 
the  centre  of  my  5000  acres,  and  we  will  live  there. 
We  shall  have  plenty  of  elbow-room.  She"  can 
paint  pictures  as  big  as  all  out-of-doors,  and  bigger," 

"Pandora  is  so  fond  of  the  open  country," 

"  Yes,  madam,  she  can  get  half  a  dozen  squaws 
to  do  her  housework,  so  that  she  can  have  all  her 
time  to  herself  I  am  going  to  arrange  it  so  that 
she  can  shoot  grizzly  bears  from  the  parlor  window, 
if  she  wants  to;  and  as  for  wardrobe!  —  well,  I 
intend  to  buy  all  our  clothes  in  New  York,  and 
they'll  be  of  a  kind  that'll  cause  every  woman  on 
the  old  Pottawatomie  Reservation  to  turn  green 
with  envy." 

"  Pandora  ought  to  appreciate  your  kindness," 
said  Mrs.  M'Duffy;  "but  she  is  a  strange  girl,  and, 
I  fear,  thinks  more  of  her  art  than  of  the  matters 
that  commonly  engage  a  young  girl's  attention." 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY's   LEG.  2/9 

"By  the  way,  ma'am,  how  is  the  great  picture 
coming  on  ? " 

"  Slowly.  Pandora  made  the  handle  of  the 
hatchet  more  than  twice  as  thick  as  the  tree,  and 
she  had  to  alter  it.  A  connoisseur,  a  friend  of  hers, 
also  pointed  out  to  her  that  in  fore-shortening 
Washington's  right  leg  she  had  made  his  foot  ap- 
pear to  be  resting  upon  a  mountain  upon  the  other 
side  of  the  river.  Corrections  of  this  kind  require 
time." 

"  She  must  hurry  up,  ma'am  ;  she  must  hurry 
up,"  said  the  General ;  "  I  have  everything  fixed  to 
obtain  the  consent  of  Congress  to  its  purchase  by 
the  Government.  I  am  going  to  press  the  res- 
olution as  soon  as  I  hear  that  she  has  accepted 
Smith." 

"You  are  too  kind.  Do  you  think  it  is  likely  to 
be  favorably  received .-'  Mrs.  Easby  told  me  yester- 
day that  Judge  Cudderbury  said  that  if  George 
Washington  could  have  foreseen  Pandora's  picture 
he  would  have  had  incorporated  into  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States  a  section  making  it  a  fel- 
ony to  represent  him  as  within  a  thousand  miles  of 
a  cherry-tree.  But  then  the  judge,  you  know,  has 
a  daughter  who  professes  to  be  an  artist." 

"Jealousy,  ma'am!  sheer  jealousy.  The  judge 
knows  no  more  about  art,  anyhow,  than  a  Colorado 
mule  knows  about  the  sidereal  system.  Now,  my 
opinion,  Mrs.  M'Duffy,  is,  that  old  Michael-what's- 


280  MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

his-name,  over  there  in  Rome,  couldn't  hold  a  can- 
dle to  your  daughter  in  the  matter  of  covering 
canvas." 

As  the  General  was  speaking,  the  door  opened, 
and  Pandora  entered.  She  spoke  politely,  but 
coldly,  to  the  visitors,  and  after  the  passage  of  a 
few  remarks  about  the  condition  of  the  weather,  the 
General  withdrew,  Mrs.  M'Duffy  followed  him  to 
the  hall  to  bid  him  adieu,  and  Mr.  Smith  remained 
with  Pandora. 

It  occurred  to  Achilles  that  if  Mrs.  M'Duffy 
should  happen  to  fail  to  return  this  would  be  an  un- 
commonly good  opportunity  to  speak  of  the  state 
of  his  feelings.  The  thought  pleased  him,  but  it 
gave  him  some  embarrassment. 

"  Miss  Pandora,"  he  said,  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  that 
you  are  succeeding  so  nicely  with  your  picture." 

"Thank  you;  it  is  making  some  progress.  I 
have  been  delayed  by  a  few  trifling  alterations." 

"  Is  the  central  figure  completed  yet .-'  " 

"  Not  quite  finished.  I  did  not  feel  sure  about 
the  left  leg,  and  I  shall  make  some  studies  before  I 
paint  it  in." 

"  If  you  have  any  difficulty  with  that  portion  of 
the  figure,  why  not  omit  it  .-*  Put  in  a  bush,  or  a 
stone,  or  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree,  so  as  to  hide 
the  leg.     Congress  will  accept  it  all  the  same." 

"Art  scorns  such  devices.  And,  besides,  it 
would  be  rather  too  ridiculous  to  represent  Wash- 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG.  28 1 

ington  standing  astride  of  a  log  while  he  is  cutting 
down  a  cherry-tree." 

"  True  !  true  !  That  did  not  occur  to  me.  What 
you  really  want  is  a  good  model.  I  think  I  could 
recommend  one." 

"  I  have  one  already,  thank  you." 

"  Indeed  !    A  plaster  of  Paris  one  ? " 

"  No  ;  a  real  one." 

"  A  real  one  ? " 

"  The  property  of  a  friend  of  mine ;  a  gentleman." 

"On  or  off.?" 

"  Off." 

"  Humph  !  That  seems  to  me  —  a  —  a  —  rather  a 
queer  offering  to  a  lady." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ? " 

"  I  am  a  plain  man,  not  used  to  flattering  women, 
but  if  I  wished  to  express  my  regard  for  a  lady  I 
would  offer  her  my  heart  instead  of  my  leg." 

"  It  would  be  dreadful  if  the  lady  happened  not 
to  want  any  portion  of  you,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  suppose  I  should  offer  her  the  Potta- 
watomie Reservation  besides,  do  you  think  she 
would  refuse  .-* " 

"  You  had  better  undertake  the  investigation 
yourself.     How  can  I  know  }  " 

"  I  tvill  undertake  it  now.  I  offer  my  heart  to 
you  !  I  offer  the  Reservation  also.  I  love  you,  Pan- 
dora.   Oh,  how  I  love  you  !    Will  you  be  my  wife  ? " 

"  Mr.  Smith,  it  is  impossible." 


282  MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

"  No,  not  impossible,  Pandora.  Not  impossible. 
Do  not  say  that ;  it  will  kill  me.  Listen !  Have 
you  ever  dreamed  of  a  home  upon  the  wide  and 
boundless  prairie .''  A  sweet  little  home,  two 
stories  and  an  attic,  painted  white  with  green 
shutters,  where  you  can  see  eighteen  miles  in  a 
straight  line,  where  two  hundred  acres  in  potatoes 
lie  beneath  your  very  window,  and  where  you  can 
hunt  the  bounding  buffalo  and  the  prairie-hen 
without  going  off  the  estate ;  and  where  copper- 
colored  servant  girls  can  be  had  for  two  dollars  a 
month  and  found  ?  Have  you  ever  dreamed  of  such 
a  home  .-* " 

"  Never." 

"  It  is  to  it  I  would  bear  you  as  my  bride.  Come 
with  me !  Be  mine !  I  cannot  offer  you  the 
enervating  luxuries  of  the  depraved  and  decaying 
East,  but  together  we  can  feast  upon  jerked  beef 
and  buffalo  tongues ;  together  we  can  drink  draughts 
from  the  Artesian  well  in  the  cellar ;  together  we 
will  sit  beneath  the  tree  by  the  front  door,  the  only 
one  within  twenty-seven  miles,  and  together  we  can 
watch  the  dog  chasing  the  jackass-rabbits  across 
the  sage  brush.  Be  mine,  and  I  will  stock  the 
pantry  with  rations  from  the  nearest  Indian  agency, 
where  I  have  a  friend  ;  I  will  buy  you  a  suave  and 
gentle  mule  for  you  to  exercise  yourself  on,  and  you 
may  have  canvas  enough  to  paint  General  Wash- 
ingtons  and  Lord  Cornwallises  as  high  as  church 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG.  283 

steeples,  and  I  will  guarantee  that  Congress  shall 
bid  them  in  as  fast  as  you  turn  them  out.  Will  you, 
Pandora  .-•  Do  you  like  the  promise  ?  Oh,  say  that 
you  love  me ! " 

"  Mr.  Smith,  I  cannot.  I  am  very  sorry,  but  to 
tell  the  truth  plainly,  I  am  engaged  to  another 
gentleman." 

"To  Dun  woody  .-*" 

"  I  did  not  mention  his  name,  sir." 

"  But  I  know  him  !  A  one-legged  Major !  And 
you  refuse  me  for  him  .-•  " 

"  I  refuse  you  ;  that  is  enough." 

"Oh,  very  well.  Miss  M'Duffy.  I  understand 
you.  I  will  bid  you  a  very  good  evening.  I  hope 
you  will  not  have  occasion  to  regret  your  decision." 

"  Certainly  I  shall  not !     Good  evening,  sir  !  " 

As  Achilles  passed  out  through  the  hall  he 
encountered  Major  Dunwoody,  who  was  just  placing 
his  hat  upon  the  rack.  Achilles  looked  back  at  him 
for  a  second,  scowling  with  rage  and  mortification, 
and  then  as  he  rushed  into  the  open  air,  he  said  to 
himself, — 

"  Never  mind,  you  hopping,  mud-headed,  military 
humbug.  I'll  settle  your  case  before  you're  many 
days  older." 

And  then  Mr.  Smith  went  home  to  bed. 

Pandora  greeted  the  Major  with  a  joyful  smile. 

"  Darling,"  said  the  Major,  "  who  was  that  person 
I  passed  in  the  hall  as  I  came  in  ? " 


284  MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

"  That  was  Achilles  Smith,  the  man  of  whom  I 
told  you.  He  proposed  to  me  a  few  moments  before 
you  came  in." 

"  He  did,  did  he  ? "  exclaimed  the  Major  savagely. 
"  I  wish  I  had  known  it.  I  would  have  kicked  him 
down  the  steps." 

"But   how    could   you,  dearest,  with   only  one 

"True!"  said  the  Major.  "But  I  could  have 
thrashed  him  with  my  cane.  So  he  wants  to  marry 
you,  does  he  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  mother  thinks  I  ought  to  accept  him." 

"And  you  have  firmly  made  up  your  mind  to 
marry  me.''"  asked  the  Major,  fondly. 

"  Yes,  dear,"  said  Pandora,  with  a  roguish  smile, 
"  but  only  when  you  have  succeeded  in  getting  for 
me  your  disconnected  leg.  You  will  try  to  get  it 
for  me  soon,  Henry,  won't  you  ? " 

"  I  am  trying  now,  my  sweet.  Colonel  Dabney, 
of  the  Maine  delegation,  has  already  introduced  to 
the  House  of  Representatives  a  bill  appropriating 
my  leg  to  me," 

"  How  splendid  ! " 

"And  he  says  it  will  pass  promptly,  so  that  I 
can  obtain  the  leg  within  less  than  two  months. 
We'll  be  married  right  off  then,  won't  we  .-* " 

"At  once.  But  I'm  afraid,  Henry,  Mr.  Smith 
and  General  Belcher  will  oppose  Colonel  Dabney's 
bill  if  they  hear  of  it." 


MAJOR    nUNWOODV's    LEG.  285 

"  I'll  brain  both  of  them  if  they  do,"  said  the 
Major.  "  No,  I  won't  brain  Smith ;  he  has  no 
brains.  And  now,  Pandora,  darling,  let  us  talk  of 
something  else.  Are  you  sure,  my  dearest,  that 
you  love  me  very,  very,  very  much  ? " 

"Oh,  Henry!  ten  thousand,  thousand  times  more 
than  I  can  ever  tell  you.    I  —  " 

A  person  passing  the  parlor  door  at  this  juncture 
might  have  heard  a  sharp  sound  resembling  some- 
what that  made  by  the  tearing  of  a  piece  of  muslin. 
The  conversation  need  not  be  quoted  at  greater 
length.  It  appeared  to  give  the  most  intense 
pleasure  to  the  Major  and  Pandora,  but  talk  of  that 
kind  is  usually  rather  dreary  for  outside  parties  ;  so 
we  will  lower  the  curtain  here. 


286  MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG 


CHAPTER   III. 

]BOUT  a  week  later,  Colonel  Dabney  re- 
ported, with  a  favorable  recommendation 
to  the  House,  from  the  Committee  on  Pub- 
lic Property,  "  An  Act  restoring  a  certain  ampu- 
tated limb  in  the  Medical  Museum  to  Major  Henry 
G.  Dunwoody."  The  Act  specified  the  leg  con- 
tained in  Exhibit  1307,  Case  25,  as  the  property  to 
be  restored. 

■  When  the  bill  came  up  for  discussion,  General 
Belcher  moved  to  lay  it  upon  the  table.  Defeated. 
Then  he  moved  to  amend  it  with  a  provision  that 
the  bone  of  the  leg  should  be  withdrawn  and 
retained  in  the  Museum.  Rejected.  Then  he 
offered  a  resolution  referring  the  whole  matter  to  a 
committee  of  inquiry,  which  should  be  directed  to 
sit  for  two  years,  and  to  take  testimony  as  to  what 
had  been  the  practice  of  governments  in  the  mat- 
ter of  surrendering  legs  blown  off  in  battle,  from 
the  time  of  Sennacherib  down  to  the  battle  of 
Sedan,  including  evidence  respecting  the  custom 
in  Persia,  Greece,  Egypt,  Rome,  Carthage,  Pales- 
tine, and  modem  Europe.  After  a  spirited  debate 
the  resolution  was  lost.     But  the  General  was  not 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG.  28/ 

discouraged.  He  presented  another  resolution, 
that  a  special  committee  be  directed  to  inquire 
whether  the  person  mentioned  in  this  bill  was  the 
same  Major  Dunwoody  who,  in  a  fit  of  alcoholic 
frenzy,  in  Clarion  County,  Pennsylvania,  in  1866, 
treed  his  aged  grandfather  one  rainy  night,  and 
compelled  that  venerable  and  rheumatic  person  to 
roost  upon  a  lofty  branch  until  morning.  Voted 
down  :     Yeas  304  ;  Nays  i  (General  Belcher). 

The  bill  finally  passed  to  a  third  reading,  and 
was  adopted.  When  it  had  received  the  approval 
of  the  Senate  and  the  President,  Major  Dunwoody 
drove  round  to  the  Museum  in  high  glee  with  Pan- 
dora. He  carried  in  his  pocket  an  empty  pillow- 
case, in  which  he  proposed  to  take  home  with  him 
the  long-lost  fragment  of  himself.  When  he  found 
the  janitor  and  presented  his  credentials,  that  offi- 
cial was  exceedingly  polite,  and  at  once  led  the 
way  to  the  place  where  the  treasure  was  kept. 

While  he  was  unlocking  the  case.  Pandora  could 
hardly  repress  her  feelings  of  joy.  Leaning  upon 
her  lover's  arm,  and  watching  the  janitor,  she  ex- 
claimed,— 

"  Isn't  it  elegant,  dear  ?  I  can  hardly  realize 
that  we  are  really  going  to  get  it !  Mother  will 
be  so  glad  when  George  Washington  has  his  other 
leg  on." 

"  I  wish  I  had  mjf  other  one  on,"  said  the  Major, 
pleasantly. 


288  MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

"  So  do  I.  It's  too  bad !  But  you  can  stand  it 
up  on  the  table  and  look  at  it  now  as  much  as  you 
want  to,  can't  you,  darling  ? " 

The  janitor  lifted  down  the  huge  jar  containing 
the  limb,  and  took  it  out  of  the  spirits. 

"I  feel,"  said  the  Major,  as  he  unfolded  his 
pillow-case,  "  as  if  I  was  in  a  cemetery,  disinterring 
one  of  my  near  relations." 

"  So  beautiful !     Isn't  it .'' "  said  Pandora. 

The  Major  suddenly  scrutinized  the  leg  closely. 

"Why,  how  —  how's  this  .^  I  don't  exactly  un- 
derstand—  let's  see,  janitor,  this  is  Exhibit  1307? 
Yes.  Case  25  ?  Yes,  Case  25  ;  so  it  is.  Why, 
Thunder  and  Mars  !  (excuse  my  agitation,  Pan- 
dora,) there  must  be  something  wrong  about 
this ! " 

"  Wrong,  Henry  ?     How  ? " 

"  Guess  not,  sir,"  said  the  janitor.  "  This  is  what 
the  bill  calls  for." 

"  But  it  can't  be,  you  know.  I  lost  my  left  leg, 
and  this  one  you  had  in  the  jar  here  is  a  right  leg. 
I  couldn't  have  had  two  right  legs,  Pandora,  of 
course ! " 

"  I  do  not  know,  dear.  Some  persons  have  pe- 
culiarities of  formation  which  —  " 

"  Oh,  well,  now,  be  reasonable.  I  am  absolutely 
certain  that  my  leg  was  a  left  leg  in  every  partic- 
ular. You  see.  Pandora,  this  is  a  matter  about 
which  I  may  fairly  be  considered  an  authority." 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY's    LEG,  289 

"Yes,  Henry,  but  —  but  maybe  being  in  the 
alcohol  so  long  may  have  changed  it." 

"  Impossible.  Quite  impossible,  Pandora.  The 
annals  of  medical  science,  from  Esculapius  down, 
contain  no  record  of  such  a  thing.  The  leg  is  not 
mine." 

"  But  you  might  as  well  take  it,  dearest,  mightn't 
you,  because  my  George  Washington  ought  to  be 
finished  as  quickly  as  possible  ?  " 

"  You  don't  want  to  put  two  right  legs  on  him, 
too,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Henry,  I  might.  People  won't 
look  at  his  toes  ;  and  if  they  did,  they  would  regard 
the  arrangement  as  one  of  the  eccentricities  of 
genius,  perhaps." 

"  Let  us  look  about,"  said  the  Major.  "  Perhaps 
my  leg  is  in  one  of  these  other  cases.  Why,  here 
it  is!  Sure  enough!  In  Case  1236,  Exhibit  11. 
That  is  mine.  You'll  let  me  have  it,  Mr.  Janitor, 
of  course  .-* " 

"  Can't  do  it,  sir ;  I  have  to  follow  the  Act  of 
Congress  carefully.     I  daren't  go  outside  of  it." 

"Well,  this  is  too  bad  !"  exclaimed  the  Major. 
"  You  positively  won't  give  it  to  me  .'' " 

"  No,  sir  ;  I  won't." 

"  Well,  then,  Pandora,  there  is  nothing  to  do  but 
to  wait.  I'll  get  Colonel  Dabney  to  put  another 
bill  through  at  once.  Let  me  get  the  numbers : 
Exhibit  II,  Case  1236." 


290  MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG. 

Then,  taking  Pandora  upon  his  arm,  the  Major 
hobbled  to  his  carriage  and  drove  straight  to  the 
Capitol. 

About  three  weeks  later  another  bill  passed  the 
House  without  opposition,  General  Belcher  being 
absent  in  New  York  upon  a  Committee  of  Inquiry. 
While  the  measure  was  pending  in  the  Senate, 
Achilles  Smith,  one  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  en- 
tered a  rear  door  of  the  Museum  with  a  key  which 
he  had  obtained  by  bribing  the  charwoman,  and 
proceeding  to  Case  1236,  he  removed  the  leg  from 
the  jar  No.  11,  and  put  it  in  another  jar  in  another 
case,  replacing  it  with  the  leg  that  had  been  in  the 
latter  jar. 

He  went  down-stairs  chuckling.  "  You  mutilated 
outcast,  you,"  he  said,  addressing  the  Major  in 
imagination  ;  "we'll  see  who'll  beat  at  this  game  !" 

When  the  Act  had  been  signed  by  the  President, 
the  Major  drove  with  Pandora  to  the  Museum  a 
second  time.  Upon  reaching  Case  1236  he  was 
for  a  moment  stricken  dumb  with  amazement. 
Presently  he  said, — 

"  Why,  Pandora,  my  dear,  do  you  see  ^  It's  the 
leg  of  a  colored  man  !  " 

"  Ye — e — es,  it  seems  to  be,  Henry.  But  per- 
haps mortification  or  something  has  set  in." 

"  It  is  very  mysterious.     I  can't  account  for  it." 

"  One  of  your  legs  was  not  colored,  was  it,  ray 
love.?" 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  29I 

"  Oh,  no,  of  course  not ! " 

"  Perhaps  the  janitor  here  has  tarred  it  over,  to 
preserve  it  better  ? " 

"  No,  ma'am  ;  that's  not  allowed  in  this  insti- 
tution." 

"  You'll  take  it  anyhow  ;  won't  you,  Henry  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  be  reasonable.  Take  the  leg  of  a 
negro  for  mine  !  " 

"  Well,  but,  Henry,  I  can  paint  it  white  in  my 
picture." 

"  Yes ;  but,  Pandora,  you  know  we  won't  care 
to  have  particles  of  fractured  Africans  scattered 
about  our  house.  We  can  have  no  cherished  mem- 
ories associated  with  a  leg  like  this." 

"  I  suppose  not ;  but  it  seems  rather  hard  that 
my  Washington  should  have  to  stand  upon  that 
one  leg  at  least  a  month  longer." 

"  He  won't  mind  it.  He  was  heroic.  He  would 
have  stood  upon  a  solitary  leg  for  centuries  rather 
than  have  robbed  another  man  of  his  members." 

Pandora  sighed  deeply,  and  made  up  her  mind 
to  try  to  be  resigned  ;  and  so  they  went  down- 
stairs, and  drove  away  to  state  the  case  to  Colonel 
Dabney. 

The  Colonel,  after  hearing  the  story,  distinctly 
affirmed  the  opinion  that  there  had  been  foul  play. 
The  Major  jumped  at  the  suggestion,  and  told  him 
of  General  Belcher  and  Achilles  Smith,  and  their 
designs  respecting  Pandora, 


292  MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG. 

"  Never  mind  ;  I  will  defeat  their  plans,"  said 
the  Colonel.  "  You  shall  have  the  leg  next  time, 
if  it  is  still  in  existence,  no  matter  who  meddles 
with  it." 

The  next  Act  reported  by  Colonel  Dabney  pro- 
vided that  Major  Henry  G.  Dunwoody  should  have 
authority  to  take  possession  of  his  leg  wherever  it 
conld  be  found,  in  any  institution  under  control  of 
the  Government. 

General  Belcher  made  a  long  and  eloquent 
speech  in  opposition  to  the  bill. 

He  referred  to  the  heroes  of  the  past.  Who 
ever  heard  of  Epaminondas  prowling  about  in 
search  of  a  leg  lost  in  honorable  warfare  ?  Did 
Leonidas  return  from  Thermopylae  to  seek  the  aid 
of  the  national  legislature  in  an  effort  to  recover 
members  of  his  body  that  had  been  hacked  off? 
Hannibal  was  fairly  torn  to  pieces,  but  he  would 
have  scorned  to  go  fishing  in  alcohol  jars  for  them. 
Caesar,  Alexander,  Wallenstein,  Wellington,  Gen- 
eral Jackson,  were  all  mighty  warriors,  but  he  had 
yet  to  learn  that  they  ever  stooped  to  begging 
their  respective  governments  for  mangled  remains 
that  had  been  preserved  for  the  instruction  of 
medical  men  and  the  alleviation  of  the  sufferings 
of  the  human  race.  No,  it  was  reserved  for  this 
obscure  American  militiaman,  who  was  gravely 
suspected  of  fiendish  barbarity  to  an  aged  and  in- 
firm grandsire,  and  who   had  been  charged  with 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  293 

hiding  behind  a  baggage-wagon  at  Gettysburg,  to 
begin  this  ghoulish  practice  of  grasping  for  legs 
that  had  been  solemnly  dedicated  to  the  uses  of 
our  common  country. 

He  would  direct  attention  to  the  remarkable  and 
mysterious  circumstances  surrounding  this  case. 
It  was  admitted  even  by  the  friends  of  Major  Dun- 
woody  that  he  had  one  leg.  Two  other  legs  had 
been  awarded  him  by  separate  Acts  of  Congress. 
That  made  three.  He  had  in  his  hand  a  receipt 
for  two  artificial  legs  supplied  to  Major  Dunwoody 
by  the  Government,  making  five  ;  and  he  was 
credibly  informed  that  the  Major  had  recently 
appeared  at  a  church  in  the  capital  wearing  a 
French  leg,  with  which  he  performed  some  extra- 
ordinary, not  to  say  scandalous,  feats  during  the 
service.  Thus  there  was  positive  evidence  that 
this  person  had  already  in  his  possession  six  legs, 
and  now  he  was  demanding  from  Congress  per- 
mission to  take  a  seventh.  He  appealed  to  the 
House,  was  it  reasonable  that  one  man  should  be 
allowed  to  have  seven  legs  ?  Would  it  look  well 
for  this  House  to  announce  to  the  country  that  it 
was  willing  to  rifle  the  Medical  Museum  in  order 
to  confer  an  additional  leg  upon  a  man  who  was 
the  owner  of  six  others }  He  could  understand 
such  legislation  if  men  were  constructed  like  centi- 
pedes, but  it  seemed  to  him  more  than  monstrous, 
positively  iniquitous,  indeed,  to  vote  away  the  pa- 


294  MAJOR   DUNWOODYS    LEG. 

thetic  and  instructive  remnants  of  our  glorious 
heroes  for  the  purpose  of  furthering  the  insidious, 
perhaps  treasonable,  designs  of  a  man  who  had 
enough  legs  of  various  kinds  already  to  make  three 
ordinary  men  comfortable. 

When  the  General  concluded  his  remarks,  Colonel 
Dabney  replied,  and  stated  th6  facts  of  the  case 
plainly  and  forcibly.  The  bill  was  passed  by  a 
handsome  majority. 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  295 


CHAPTER   IV. 

PON  the  very  same  day,  General  Belcher's 
Act  indemnifying  Achilles  Smith  for  the 
loss  of  his  scalp  by  removing  the  Pot- 
tawatomie Indians  from  their  reservation,  was 
squeezed  through  the  House  by  a  majority  of  two 
votes.  The  bill  provided  for  the  immediate  with- 
drawal of  the  Indians  from  their  reservation  in  the 
Indian  Territory,  and  the  location  of  the  tribe 
upon  another  reservation  in  Colorado,  in  a  part  of 
the  country  which  is  absolutely  a  desert,  without 
water  or  shrubbery,  and  wholly  unfit  for  the  resi- 
dence of  any  animal  of  a  higher  grade  than  a  rat- 
tlesnake. 

By  some  means  the  information  of  the  action  of 
the  House  was  conveyed  to  the  Pottawatomie  chiefs, 
and  they  expressed  to  their  agent  their  disgust  in 
very  strong  language.  The  agent  was  scared,  and 
he  sent  to  Fort  Gibson  for  a  company  of  cavalry  to 
protect  him.  The  commander  could  spare  Ijut  ten 
men.  When  the  Indians  discovered  the  approach 
of  the  soldiers  they  imagined  that  a  force  was  com- 
ing to  drive  them  from  their  homes,  and  accord- 


296  MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG. 

ingly  they  attacked  the  squad,  killed  all  but  one 
man,  and  then  the  entire  tribe  went  upon  the 
warpath. 

The  Government  took  instant  action.  The  In- 
dians numbered  about  one  thousand  warriors.  The 
force  sent  to  crush  them  included  not  more  than 
two  hundred  cavalrymen.  The  Indians  were 
mounted  upon  fleet  and  hardy  ponies,  which  could 
endure  an  incredible  amount  of  fatigue  and  live 
upon  grass.  The  cavalrymen  bestrode  horses  which 
had  performed  service  in  New  York  omnibuses 
and  upon  St.  Louis  horse-cars,  and  which  could 
hardly  be  driven  faster  than  six  miles  an  hour  under 
stress.  The  Indians  were  armed  with  telescope 
rifles,  breech-loading,  and  warranted  to  kill  at 
three-quarters  of  a  mile.  These  had  been  fur- 
nished gratuitously  in  time  of  peace  by  a  benefi- 
cent Government.  The  soldiers  were  armed  with 
short-range  carbines,  and  with  sabres  which  were 
about  as  useful  in  fighting  savages  who  never  came 
within  gun-shot  as  a  fishing-rod  would  have  been. 
The  Indians  carried  upon  their  ponies  what  food 
they  wanted.  The  military  force  was  encumbered 
by  ambulances  and  several  wagons  carrying  camp 
equipage.  In  a  fight  at  close  quarters  the  soldiers 
could  have  beaten  their  adversaries  easily.  In  a 
race,  which  permitted  no  other  fighting  than  occa- 
sional skirmishing,  all  the  chances  were  on  the 
side  of  the  Indians  ;  and  a  race  was  what  the  com- 
batants were  in  for. 


MAJOR    DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  297 

Just  before  the  expedition  was  ready  to  start, 
General  Belcher,  by  bringing  some  influence  indi- 
rectly to  bear,  succeeded  in  having  Major  Dun- 
woody  detailed  to  accompany  it  in  command  of  the 
Commissary  Department.  The  Major  was  wild  with 
vexation  and  disgust. 

"  Pandora,  darling,"  he  said,  "  you  know  that  I 
was  to  get  my  leg  to-morrow,  and  that  we  were  to 
be  married  within  the  month  .''  " 

"  Well !     Won't  we  .-•     Is  anything  wrong  ? " 

"  Wrong !  Why,  my  dear,  I  have  just  received 
from  the  War  Department  orders  to  accompany 
the  expedition  against  the  Pottawatomies.  I  start 
to-morrow  for  Fort  Gibson." 

"  How  can  you  ride,  with  only  one  leg  .'' " 

"  I  am  to  command  the  Commissary  Depart- 
ment. I  shall  have  to  ride  in  an  ambulance.  This 
is  the  fault  of  that  accursed  Smith.  Why  didn't 
he  and  Belcher  let  the  Indians  alone  .■' " 

"And  we  can't  be  married,  then,  until  you 
return  .-' " 

"  I  don't  see  how.  Isn't  it  outrageous  .■*  I  have 
the  worst  luck  of  any  man  in  the  army." 

Pandora  looked  as  if  she  were  going  to  cry. 

"  And  your  leg  .''  Won't  you  get  that  until  you 
come  back .?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  will  take  it  out  of  the  Museum 
this  evening,  and  you  can  amuse  yourself  throwing 
it  upon  the  canvas  while  I  am  gone." 


298  MAJOR   DUNWOODY'S    LEG. 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  so  nice  ! " 

"  So  nice  that  I  am  gone  ? " 

"  Oh,  Henry !  How  could  you  think  I  meant 
that  ? " 

"  I  didn't ;  I  was  only  jesting.  And  you  will 
think  of  me  sometimes  ?" 

"  Yes,  oh  yes  ;  every  moment  of  the  day." 

"  And  you  love  me  very  much  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  I  do  ! " 

"My  darling!" 

"  My  dearest ! " 

Probably  the  curtain  might  as  well  drop  again  at 
this  point. 

The  expedition  started  from  Fort  Gibson.  It 
marched  straight  across  the  Indian  territory  to 
the  Pottawatomie  Reservation.  The  savages  had 
moved  off,  about  a  day's  march  ahead  of  the  sol- 
diers, toward  the  northwest.  The  military  pressed 
forward  ;  the  Indians  kept  always  just  a  little  in  ad- 
vance. The  two  forces  crossed  into  Kansas.  The 
troops  pressed  their  omnibus  horses  a  little  harder, 
and  came  within  sight  of  the  Indian  rear-guard. 
Then  the  savages  spurred  up  and  increased  the  in- 
terval between  them  and  the  pursuers. 

The  Pottawatomies  headed  for  Colorado,  and 
crossed  the  line  in  a  few  days,  with  the  soldiers  the 
usual  distance  behind.  Just  after  passing  the  Col- 
orado border,  the  Colonel  commanding  resolved  to 
steal  a  march  upon  the  foe.     One  night,  instead  of 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  299 

going  into  camp,  he  pressed  on  until  twelve  o'clock, 
and  then  halted  upon  the  bank  of  the  Arkansas 
River. 

Four  omnibus  horses  succumbed  under  the 
strain,  and  ere  morning  dawned  some  Pottawato- 
mies  crept  into  the  camp  and  stole  six  mules. 

The  most  degraded  Indian  was  never  known  to 
steal  a  New  York  omnibus  horse,  even  in  the  dark. 

The  next  day  the  four  dismounted  troopers  were 
placed  in  an  ambulance,  and  the  pursuit  began 
again.  The  Indians  fled  up  through  Colorado  into 
Wyoming  Territory,  and  the  Colonel  commanding 
pushed  after  them,  going  faster  and  faster  every 
day.  By  the  time  he  reached  Fort  Russel,  just 
over  the  edge  of  the  Wyoming  line,  the  route  of 
his  march  was  marked  with  a  succession  of  omni- 
bus and  car  horses  in  various  stages  of  decay.  At 
the  Fort  he  obtained  fresh  horses,  and  sacrificing 
the  baggage  wagons,  keeping  only  the  ambulances, 
he  pressed  on. 

On  the  27th  of  August  his  scouts  discovered  the 
Indians  in  camp  in  a  valley  a  few  miles  ahead. 
The  Colonel  resolved  upon  a  surprise.  When 
everything  was  arranged  the  troops  charged  down 
upon  the  village  with  a  wild  hurrah.  Not  an  Indian 
could  be  seen.  The  soldiers,  however,  burned  the 
lodges  and  withdrew.  Upon  their  return  they 
found  that  in  their  absence  the  Indians  had  stam- 
peded  their  mules  and  all  their  ambulances  but 


30O  MAJOR   DUNWOODYS   LEG. 

one,  which   Major  Dunwoody  had  saved  by  hard 
driving. 

The  chase  was  resumed  with  greater  heat  than 
ever.  So  far  there  had  not  been  a  chance  for  any- 
thing like  a  fight.  In  fact,  not  a  dozen  savages  had 
been  seen. 

Within  a  week  or  two  Wyoming  was  traversed 
and  Montana  Territory  reached.  There,  just  be- 
yond the  Crow  Indian  Reservation,  the  first  Potta- 
watomie of  the  campaign  was  slain.  He  sneaked 
into  the  camp  one  night,  and  while  cutting  loose 
one  of  Major  Dunwoody's  mules,  the  mule  kicked 
him  upon  the  head  and  killed  him. 

On  the  6th  of  October  the  soldiers  had  marched 
for  thirty-six  hours  without  rest,  and  it  was  believed 
that  they  would  at  last  strike  a  telling  blow  upon 
the  savages.  Everything  was  ready  for  a  fight,  and 
the  troops  were  full  of  eagerness  for  the  fray. 
While  they  were  halting  for  water  upon  a  small 
creek,  a  friendly  Gros  Ventre  Indian  came  in  with 
the  information  that  the  fugitive  Pottavvatomies  had 
crossed  the  British  line  and  were  now  safe  from 
pursuit  within  the  dominions  of  Her  Majesty. 

The  Colonel  and  his  officers  and  men  fairly  tore 
the  English  language  into  shreds  in  their  efforts  to 
express  with  the  necessary  emphasis  their  appreci- 
ation of  the  facts  of  the  situation. 

The  "  war "  cost  the  Government  a  little  less 
than  a  million  and  a  half  dollars,  omnibus  horses 


MAJOR    DUNWOODYS    LEG.  3OI 

included  ;  and  it  was  estimated  by  well-informed 
persons  that  the  flying  Indians,  while  upon  the 
route,  destroyed  private  property  to  the  amount  of 
half  a  million  more,  besides  killing  and  scalping  a 
party  of  eighteen  emigrants  which  was  passing 
through  Wyoming. 

It  seemed  like  rather  a  large  price  to  pay  for 
Mr.  Achilles  Smith's  scalp. 

Some  time  during  the  month  of  September, 
while  the  chase  was  in  progress,  Achilles  called  at 
the  house  of  Mrs.  M'Duffy  in  Washington  and 
asked  for  Pandora.     He  said,  — 

"  Miss  M'Duffy,  I  come  upon  a  somewhat  pain- 
ful errand,  but  I  have  a  duty  devolving  upon  me, 
and  I  must  perform  it." 

"  No  bad  news  from  Major  Dun  woody,  I  hope, 
Mr.  Smith .? " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  there  is." 

Pandora's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Her  face  be- 
came pale. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I  have  here  a  dispatch  to  the  Secretary  of  War, 
saying  that  in  a  fight  with  the  Indians,  on  last 
Wednesday  week,  Major  Dunwoody — " 

"  Not  killed  !  Oh,  please  don't  say  he  was  slain  ! 
I  can't  bear  it." 

"No,  not  killed.  Major  Dunwoody  has  lost  his 
other  leg  and  his  right  arm." 

"  How  terrible  I "  screamed  Pandora ;  then  she 
wept  bitterly. 


302  MAJOR   DUNWOODY  S    LEG. 

*'  Terrible,  indeed ! "  replied  Smith  in  a  sympa- 
thetic tone.  "  But  you  know  this  is  the  fortune  of 
war.     This  it  is  to  be  a  soldier." 

"  Poor  Henry  !  How  he  must  have  suffered  !  Do 
you  know  how  he  is .-'  What  are  the  chances  of 
recovery  ?" 

"  The  dispatch  says  he  is  doing  very  well.  But 
of  course  he  will  be  a  mere  wreck." 

"  It  is  dreadful,  too  dreadful ! " 

"  Perfectly  helpless,  too.  A  mere  burden  upon 
those  who  will  have  to  take  care  of  him." 

"Not  if  they  love  him!" 

"  But  surely  you  —  you  do  not  intend  to  cling  to 
such  a  —  a  —  such  a  disintegrated  ruin  as  he  ?" 

"  I  shall  be  true  to  him  unto  death." 

"  I  had  hoped,"  said  Achilles  sadly,  "  that  now 
that  Dunwoody  is  reduced  to  about  one  half  his 
original  dimensions,  I  might  hope  to  have  you  con- 
sider my  claims." 

"  Never  !    It  can  never  be  ! " 

"  Because  I  am  about  moving  out  on  the  Potta- 
watomie Reservation,  and  with  you  as  my  bride  I 
could  make  it  a  little  paradise  here  below.  If  you 
will  take  me,  the  Reservation  is  yours  in  fee-simple." 

*'  I  scorn  the  offer,  sir  !  " 

"You  scorn  it,  do  you  ?  Scorn  the  most  splendid 
tract  of  land  in  the  Mississippi  Valley  for  the  sake 
of  marrying  half  of  a  man,  whom  you'll  have  to 
carry  to  church  in  a  market  basket  and  to  feed 
with  a  spoon  ! " 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY  S    LEG.  303 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  scorn  it  and  you.  For  to  you  and 
your  wicked  schemes  against  the  unoffending 
Indians,  this  awful,  this  dreadful  suifering  of  Major 
Dunwoody  is  due.  I  hate  you !  Yes,  I  hate  you ! 
Leave  the  house  this  instant,  sir  ! " 

Smith  withdrew,  and  as  he  closed  the  door 
Pandora  fell  upon  the  sofa  and  cried  as  if  her  poor 
little  heart  would  break. 

Enter  Mrs.  M'Duffy.  ^ 

"  Pandora,  my  child,  what  is  the  matter  ?" 
"  Didn't  that  horrid  Smith  tell  you  ? " 
"  What  horrid  Smith  ?     I  don't  know  any  such 
person.     If  you  mean  Mr.  Achilles  Smith,  why,  he 
didn't  tell  me  anything.     I  have  not  seen  him." 

"  Poor  Major  Dunwoody  has  had  his  arm  shot 
off." 

"  What !  Not  another  limb  lost !  Why,  the  man 
is  falling  apart  in  sections." 

"And  that's  not  the  worst  of  it." 
"  Not  the  worst  ?     Why,  my  child,  what  do  you 
mean  } " 

"  His  other  leg  has  been  amputated." 
"  Humph  !     Well,  that's   agreeable  news.       No 
legs  and  only  one  arm.     Pity  they  didn't  amputate 
his  head  at  once.      I  suppose,  of  course,  you  will 
break  your  engagement  ? " 

"  Oh,  mother  !     How  can  you  be  so  unkind  .-' " 
*'  Pandora  M'Duffy,  you  must  be  insane.     Marry 
a  man  with  only  one  limb.      How  is  he  going  to 


304  MAJOR   DUNWOODYS   LEG. 

waddle  around  ?  Do  you  intend  to  carry  him 
under  your  arm,  in  a  bundle  ?  " 

"  He  will  go  on  wheels,  of  course,"  said  Pandora 
with  brimming  eyes. 

"  On  wheels !  A  Hunsicker  and  a  M'Duffy 
married  to  a  man  on  wheels,  and  who  has  to  slide 
on  the  banister  when  he  wants  to  come  down- 
stairs !  Why  don't  you  accept  Mr.  Smith  at  once  ? 
He  is  intact,  I  believe,  with  the  exception  of  his 
scalp.  This  family  seems  to  be  haunted  by  men 
who  are  more  or  less  in  piecemeal." 

"  I  would  rather  die  than  marry  Smith." 

"  You  might  do  it  for  your  mother's  sake,  so  as 
to  be  near  to  her." 

"  Near  to  her  ?     What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"Why,  I  came  in  to  tell  you,  my  child,  that  I 
have  accepted  General  Belcher's  hand.  I  shall 
marry  him,  and  we  shall  probably  spend  our 
summers  at  his  prospective  country  seat  upon  the 
Pottawatomie  Reservation." 

"  General  Belcher ! "  exclaimed  Pandora  in  dis- 
gust ;  "  I  never  thought,  mother,  it  would  come  to 
^/lat !  " 

Then  Pandora  swept  out  of  the  room,  with  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  leaving  the  majestic  Mrs. 
M'Duffy  in  a  condition  of  some  uncertainty  as  to 
her  daughter's  theory  respecting  the  degree  of 
humiliation  which  had  been  reached  in  her  contract 
with  the  General. 


MAJOR   DUNWOODY's    LEG.  305 

"But  I  know  he  is  rich,  and  that  he  has  a  promise 
of  an  appointment  as  Minister  to  Peru,  where  he 
expects  to  speculate  in  bark,"  said  Mrs.  M'Duffy  to 
herself. 

The  Secretary  of  the  Interior  Department  at  that 
period  was  an  especially  capable  officer.  He 
obtained  by  some  means  a  clue  to  the  secret  of  the 
movement  against  the  Pottawatomie  Reservation, 
and  he  followed  it  industriously  by  means  of  his 
agents.  Late  in  the  month  of  October  he  had 
probed  the  matter  to  the  bottom,  and  he  gave  it  to 
the  newspapers. 

The  entire  conspiracy  of  General  Belcher  and 
Achilles  Smith  was  exposed,  and  an  indignant 
nation  discovered  that  the  costly  struggle  with  the 
Pottawatomies  had  not  even  so  slight  a  basis  of 
justice  on  the  part  of  the  Government  as  a  real 
injury  done  to  Achilles  Smith,  It  was  ascertained 
that  Smith  had  not  been  scalped  at  all.  He  had 
merely  had  his  hair  pulled  at  the  Pottawatomie 
agency  by  a  muscular  squaw  whom  he  was  trying 
to  cheat  out  of  her  fair  allowance  of  rations. 

It  became  clear  that  a  Congressional  investi- 
gation would  be  ordered  before  the  year  was  out, 
and  Achilles  Smith  fled.  General  Belcher's  conduct 
excited  so  much  indignation  at  Kansas,  that  the 
politicians,  following  the  popular  lead,  turned  on 
him.  He  was  arrested  and  tried  upon  a  charge  of 
bribery,  and  was  committed.     When  on  his  way  to 


3o6  MAJOR  dunwoody's  leg. 

prison  he  knocked  down  his  custodian,  took  the 
first  horse  he  came  to,  and  started  due  South.  It  is 
supposed  that  he  went  to  Mexico.  The  feeling  in 
Kansas  is  that  the  unhappy  land  of  the  Montezumas 
has  yet  to  experience  her  bitterest  woes.  It  will 
be  a  charming  country  to  emigrate  from  when 
General  Belcher  begins  to  feel  at  home. 

Early  in  November  Major  Dunwoody  obtained 
release  from  his  duties  and  came  to  Washington. 
He  had  not  warned  Pandora  ;  he  wished  to  surprise 
her.  When  he  called  he  withheld  his  name  from 
the  servant.  Pandora  entered  the  room  slowly. 
When  she  saw  her  lover  she  gave  a  little  scream 
of  joy  and  flew  towards  him.  Before  reaching  him 
a  thought  struck  her.  She  paused  and  seemed 
astonished. 

"  What's  the  matter,  darling  ?  Aren't  you  glad 
to  see  me  .■' " 

"  Yes,  but  what  —  what  —  why  —  Henry  dear, 
how  is  it  you  have  your  leg  with  you  .-'  " 

"  I  always  keep  it  by  me,  sweet.  It  is  so  con- 
venient to  have  it  along.  You  have  the  other  one, 
you  know." 

"  But,  Henry,  you  appear  to  have  both  arms,  too." 

"  I  brought  them  to  hug  you  with,  you  angel, 
you." 

She  flew  into  them,  and  after  a  brief  moment 
expended  in  exercising  their  lips.  Pandora  looked 
up  into  the  Major's  face  and  said, — 


MAJOR   DUNWOODYS    LEG.  307 

"You  know,  dear,  I  heard  that  you  had  lost 
your  other  leg  and  one  of  your  arms.  I  cried  about 
it  for  a  month," 

"  Who  gave  you  that  information  ? " 

**  That  scandalous  story-teller,  Achilles  Smith." 

"  Smith,  hey  !  Is  he  still  around  .-'  That  young 
man  is  actually  suffering  for  somebody  to  macerate 
him." 

"And  you're  not  hurt  a  bit,  are  you,  deary  ?" 

"  I  am  a  little  dyspeptic  from  too  regular  dieting 
upon  salt  pork  so  tough  that  it  creaked  when  I 
swallowed  it ;  but  that's  all." 

**  Oh,  Henry,  you  don't  know  how  glad  I  am  !  " 

More  osculatory  exercise  at  this  juncture  ;  but  we 
will  not  stop  to  consider  it,  satisfactory  as  it 
appeared  to  be. 

"And  now,  my  love,"  said  the  Major,  as  they 
sat  together  on  the  sofa,  the  Major's  right  arm 
encircling  Pandora's  waist,  "tell  me  about  every- 
thing." 

"Well,  let  me  see.  First  of  all — you  know, 
mother  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  she  is  going  to  marry  Colonel  Dabney." 

"  You  don't  say  so  .<*  " 

"  Yes ;  she  was  engaged  to  General  Belcher, 
but—" 

"  Not  old  Belcher  of  Kansas  ? " 

"  Yes ;  but  he  proved  a  rascal,  so  she  discarded 


3o8  MAJOR  dunwoody's  leg. 

him,  and  now  she  is  engaged  to  Colonel  Dabney. 
Splendid,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  splendid.  By  the  way,  have  you 
copied  my  off  leg  yet  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  long  ago," 

"  Then  your  picture  is  done  ? " 

"Yes,  Henry  dear,  but — " 

"  What  !     Isn't  it  satisfactory,  after  all  ?  " 

"It  is  to  me,  darling,  but  Colonel  Dabney  says 
Congress  will  never  accept  it." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  He  seemed  embarrassed  when  I  asked  him  the 
reason,  and  he  turned  the  subject." 

"  Absolutely  hopeless,  is  it  ?  " 

"Colonel  Dabney  says  so." 

"  What  will  you  do  with  it  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  dear  ;  what  do  you  think  }  " 

"  Couldn't  you  alter  it  into  something  else  ?  " 

"  I  thought  of  that.  It  occurred  to  me  that  maybe 
I  might  turn  it  into  the  Execution  of  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots  and  get  the  Canadian  Government  to  buy 
it." 

"  Not  a  bad  idea." 

"  Paint  in  different  clothes,  you  know,  on  Wash- 
ington, and  fix  up  the  tree  somehow  into  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots.  I  think  the  hatchet  will  do  as  it  is  —  do 
for  the  executioner's  axe,  you  know." 

"  I  see.     It's  a  good  notion." 

"Mother  said   she  thought   I  might  make  it  a 


MAJOR   DUNWOODYS    LEG.  3O9 

battle  between  a  Crusader  and  a  Saracen,  but  the 
tree  is  in  the  wrong  position  for  a  person  supposed 
to  be  fighting." 

"  Won't  do  at  all,  of  course." 

"  When  General  Belcher  was  here  he  said  he 
believed  that  by  painting  the  grass  red  so  as  to 
represent  fire,  and  making  a  mast  with  rigging  out 
of  the  tree,  it  might  pass  for  the  Boy  who  stood  on 
the  Burning  Deck  —  Casablanca.  But  the  Canadian 
Government  would  not  care  particularly  about  the 
Boy  who  stood  on  the  Burning  Deck,  would  they, 
Henry.?" 

"  I  have  a  dim  idea  that  they  wouldn't." 

"  I  think  I'll  stick  to  Mary  Queen  of  Scots." 

"  And  now  about  our  wedding  ?  " 

"  I'm  ready," 

"  Name  the  day." 

"  Will  next  Thursday  do  ?  " 

"  Admirable.  So,  next  Thursday  you  will  be  my 
darling  wife." 

"  And  you  will  be  my  sweet,  splendid  husband." 

"Pandora!" 

"  Henry ! " 

Another  fall  of  the  curtain  appears  to  be  neces- 
sary just  here.  We  will  ring  it  down.  If  it  could 
have  been  raised  again  a  glimpse  might  have  been 
caught  of  a  pretty  room  in  which  sat  a  lovely  and 
smiling  woman  by  the  side  of  a  table,  sewing.  Close 
to  her  sat  a  handsome  young  soldier,  with  one  leg 


3IO  MAJOR    DUNWOODYS    LEG. 

upon  the  floor.  His  other  leg  bobbed  about  in  a 
huge  jar  that  rested  in  a  corner.  Pandora  M'Duffy 
had  been  transformed  into  Mrs.  Major  Henry  G. 
Dunwoody,  and  she  was  happy. 


JINNIE.  311 


"  JINNIE." 

A  STORY  OF  A  CHILD. 


INNIE!  Vir-r-rginia-a-a !  You  'Jin'!  If 
you're  not  here  in  a  minute,  I'll  whip  you 
within  an  inch  of  your  life ! " 

It  was  the  shrill  voice  of  Mrs.  Tyke.  Down 
from  some  mysterious  part  of  the  recesses  of  the 
house  it  came  with  the  force  and  precision  of  a 
rifle-ball,  through  the  narrow  hall  and  open  door  to 
the  ears  of  Jinnie,  who  was  scrubbing  the  front 
steps. 

Why  Mrs.  Tyke  desired  that  the  steps  and  the 
pavement  should  be  scrubbed  upon  that  cold  and 
dismal  December  morning  cannot  be  imagined. 
Probably  she  herself  could  not  have  given  a  reason 
for  it  if  she  had  been  asked.  The  bricks  looked 
very  clean  and  wholesome  before  the  work  began, 
and  the  marble  steps  were  almost  painfully  white. 
Now,  the  pavement  was  covered  with  a  film  of  ice 
upon  which  pedestrians  slipped  and  were  provoked 
to  anger,  and  the  steps  were  positively  so  icy  as  to 
be  unfit  for  use. 


312  JINNIE. 

The  voice  of  Mrs.  Tyke  gave  fresh  impetus  to 
the  arm  of  the  child,  who  was  just  giving  a  few  fin- 
ishing wipes  to  the  uppermost  step.  She  was  a 
little  child,  surely  not  more  than  eight  years  of  age. 
As  she  knelt  upon  the  marble,  rather  painful  prom- 
inence was  given  to  a  pair  of  shoes  which  might 
once  have  been  the  property  of  Mrs.  Tyke  herself, 
but  which  were  now  worn,  as  forlorn  and  riddled 
wrecks,  upon  feet  which  were  stockingless.  The 
thin  little  legs  above  the  leather  ruins  were  blue 
with  cold,  and  the  tiny  arms  which  wielded  the 
wiping-cloth  with  accelerated  speed  were  bare  and 
chapped  to  redness. 

If  it  was  an  offence  to  cover  a  pavement  with  ice 
upon  such  a  morning,  it  was  a  bitter  wrong  to 
compel  a  little  child  so  poorly  clad  to  perform  the 
work. 

Before  Jinnie  had  replaced  her  cloth  in  her 
bucket,  Mrs.  Tyke  appeared  in  the  doorway  with 
anger  in  her  face.  She  took  hold  of  one  of  the 
child's  ears  with  her  coarse  fingers  and  pulled  her 
into  the  hallway  head  foremost  with  as  much  force 
as  if  she  had  been  shot  out  of  a  catapult.  Then 
Mrs.  Tyke,  with  a  vigorous  hand,  boxed  the  ear 
that  she  had  pulled,  cuffed  the  other  ear,  impar- 
tially, knocking  the  child  against  the  wall. 

"  I'll  teach  you  to  mind  me  when  I  call  you ! 
Pottering  and  fooling  with  your  work !  Now  you 
go  right  out  into  the  yard  and  scrub  those  bricks 


JINNIE.  313 

in  a  jiffy,  or  you'll  know  how  the  broom-handle 
feels." 

Mrs.  Tyke  was  going  to  have  the  back-yard 
scrubbed  also.  Why  Mrs.  Tyke  did  not  scrub  the 
four  walls  of  the  house,  and  the  roof,  and  the  chim- 
ney flues  and  the  fence,  and  why  she  did  not  scrub 
the  cobble-stones  in  the  street,  is  an  impenetrable 
secret. 

Jinnie  picked  up  the  bucket,  and  went  stagger- 
ing through  the  hall,  into  the  kitchen,  with  a  feel- 
ing that  her  head  might  at  any  moment  tumble  off, 
as  a  result  of  Mrs.  Tyke's  blows,  and  roll  upon  the 
floor.  She  refilled  her  bucket  at  the  hydrant,  and 
began  her  work  with  a  vigor  that  promised  to  make 
Mrs.  Tyke's  back-yard  within  a  few  moments  a  fit 
place  for  skaters. 

Just  before  the  work  was  done,  Mrs.  Tyke  ap- 
peared at  the  window  with  her  bonnet  on,  and  in  a 
severe  tone  gave  Jinnie  some  directions  respecting 
the  preparation  of  dinner  during  her  absence. 
Then  Mrs.  Tyke  withdrew,  and  just  as  the  front 
door  slammed  Jinnie  saw  the  head  of  a  child  ap- 
pear over  the  top  of  the  partition  fence,  between 
the  yards  of  Mrs.  Tyke  and  Mrs.  Brown. 

Young  Miss  Brown  watched  Jinnie  putting  away 
the  scrubbing  implements,  and  when  Jinnie  drew 
near  to  the  fence  with  an  apparent  purpose  to  have 
some  conversation,  the  little  Brown  said: 

"  It'll  pretty  soon  be  Christmas,  now." 


314  JINNIE. 

"  Will  it  ? "  said  Jinnie,  without  manifesting  any 
trace  of  interest  in  the  fact. 

"  Yes,  and  Kris  Kingle  is  coming  to  our  house. 
Mamma  said  so.  Does  Kris  Kingle  come  to  your 
house  on  Christmas  ? " 

"  Nobody  ever  comes  to  our  house  but  the  milk- 
man.    He  is  not  Kris  Kingle,  is  he  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  !  Don't  you  hang  up  your  stockings  on 
Christmas  eve  } " 

"  I  have  no  stockings  to  hang  up." 

"Where  does  Kris  Kingle  put  all  your  pretty 
things,  then  ? " 

"  He  don't  bring  me  any.    Who  is  Kris  Kingle  ? " 

"  Why,  don't  you  know .-'  He  comes  in  a  sleigh 
full  of  toys,  pulled  by  reindeer,  and  — " 

**  Where  does  he  come  from  .<*    Ohio  ? " 

"  I  guess  so.  But  he  comes  down  the  chimbley 
every  night  before  Christmas,  and  — " 

"  I  expect  our  chimbley  must  be  too  little.  Or 
maybe  he  don't  know  we  live  here." 

"  Oh,  he  knows  where  everybody  lives ;  all  the 
little  children." 

"  I'm  so  sorry  he  forgets  me !  Maybe  it's  be- 
cause I  have  no  stockings !  Oh,  I  wish,  I  wish 
I  had!" 

"Won't  Mrs.  Tyke  lend  you  one  of  hers  ?" 

"  I'm  afraid  to  ask  her.  I  wonder  would  Kris 
Kingle  come  if  I  put  a  bucket  there  for  him  ? " 

"  I  never  heard  of  his  giving  toys  in  a  bucket. 


JINNIE.  315 

If  he  gave  you  a  large  doll  maybe  he  would.  Have 
you  got  a  large  doll  ? " 

"  I  never  had  any  doll.  I  made  one  once  out  of 
a  dust  brush  and  some  rags,  but  Mrs.  Tyke  whipped 
me  and  took  it  away.  If  I  had  a  real  doll  I'd  be  so 
happy  that  I  couldn't  stand  it." 

"  If  Mrs.  Tyke  whipped  you  for  it  that  would 
keep  you  from  being  too  happy,  wouldn't  it  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Why  didn't  you  ask  your  mamma  to  write  to 
Kris  Kingle  to  come  ? " 

"  I  never  had  a  mamma ;  and  no  father,  either. 
I  was  born  in  an  asylum,  and  Mrs.  Tyke  always 
says  it's  a  pity  I  was  ever." 

"  Maybe  he'd  come  if  you'd  pray  to  get  him," 

"  I  only  know  '  Now  I  lay  me.'  I  learned  it  at 
the  asylum ;  but  I  daren't  say  it  out  loud  any 
more." 

"  I  don't  know  what  we  can  do  about  it,  then." 

Jinnie  began  to  cry  ;  but  suddenly  remember- 
ing the  imminent  probability  of  Mrs.  Tyke's  re- 
turn, she  wiped  her  eyes  with  a  rag  of  her  dress, 
and  said,  — 

"  Good-bye  ;  I  must  go  in  now.  I  have  to  get 
dinner." 

So  she  ran  into  the  kitchen,  and  the  head  of  the 
youthful  Brown  slowly  descended  until  it  was 
eclipsed  by  the  fence. 

Jinnie  went  to  work  to  prepare  the  vegetables 


3l6  JINNIE. 

for  dinner,  with  her  poor  little  brain  in  such  a  stir 
of  excitement  about  Kris  Kingle  and  the  possibil- 
ity of  his  remembering  her  or  forgetting  her,  that 
she  could  hardly  keep  her  mind  upon  the  task  that 
her  hands  were  doing ;  but  she  was  recalled  from 
her  dreams  by  the  sound  of  Mrs.  Tyke's  step  in 
the  hall ;  and  as  Mrs.  Tyke  perceived  that  she  had 
not  been  very  industrious,  Mrs.  Tyke  promptly 
boxed  her  ears.  She  fell  to  the  floor,  and  then 
Mrs.  Tyke  kicked  her  two  or  three  times.  This 
energetic  treatment  effectively  dispelled  all  of  Jin- 
nie's  visions  of  Kris  Kingle.  She  had  rarely  had 
any  information  upon  which  to  build  pleasant 
thoughts  of  what  life  might  have  been  to  her ;  and 
now  when  her  little  mind  was  taking  its  first  flight 
into  those  realms  of  imagination  wherein  so  many 
of  the  forlorn  of  earth  find  at  least  a  taste  of  hap- 
piness, the  red  and  vigorous  hand  of  Mrs.  Tyke 
hurled  her  back  once  more  into  the  dreary  and 
dreadful  reality  of  life. 

For  the  rest  of  the  day  Jinnie  hurried  through 
her  myriad  duties  with  a  tremulous  fear  upon  her 
that  if  she  should  dare  even  to  think  of  that  mys- 
terious being  who  loved  the  little  children  she 
might  invoke  still  further  blows.  The  blows  came 
at  any  rate,  more  than  once,  despite  her  careful- 
ness ;  but  that  was  always  a  part  of  her  experi- 
ence, and  she  bore  them  perhaps  a  little  better 
now  because  she  was  looking  forward  with  a  faint 


JINNIE.  317 

suggestion  of  happiness  to  the  night,  when  she 
should  lie  beneath  the  scant  covering  of  her  bed, 
and  think  without  fear  of  harm  of  the  reindeer  and 
sleigh  and  the  toys  of  the  kind  old  man,  who  might 
perhaps  not  forget  her  this  time. 

When  supper-time  came  Mrs.  Tyke  ordered  her 
to  go  to  the  baker's  for  bread.  The  shop  to  which 
she  had  been  accustomed  to  go  was  closed,  for 
some  reason,  and  Jinnie  sought  another,  upon 
another  street.  On  her  way  home  through  the 
dusky  thoroughfare  she  came  suddenly  upon  a  show- 
window  brilliantly  lighted,  and  filled  with  child- 
ish splendors  belonging  to  the  Christmas  season. 

She  had  never  seen  so  many  beautiful  things 
before.  There  were  toys  of  all  kinds,  some  of 
which  she  understood  and  some  of  which  were  all 
the  more  fascinating  for  the  mystery  that  sur- 
rounded them.  There  were  wagons  and  horses, 
and  miniature  tea-sets,  and  pop-guns,  and  baby 
houses,  and  jumping-jacks,  and  railroad  cars,  and 
tin  steamboats,  and  make-believe  soldier  caps  ;  and 
these  were  mingled  with  clusters  of  glass  balls  of 
various  colors,  which  glittered  in  the  gaslight  in  a 
most  wonderful  manner.  But  the  glory  of  the 
window  was  a  huge  waxen  doll  dressed  as  a  bride, 
in  pure  white,  with  a  veil  and  a  wreath  and  the 
loveliest  satin  dress.  She  had  real  golden  hair  and 
the  softest  blue  eyes,  that  stared  and  stared  as 
though  they  were  looking  into  some  other  surpris- 
ing show-window  over  the  way. 


3l8  JINNIE. 

Jinnie  trembled  when  she  saw  this  marvellous 
doll.  She  had  no  idea  that  anybody  ever  wore 
such  wonderful  clothing  as  that.  She  had  never 
dreamed  that  anything  could  be  so  beautiful.  She 
thought  she  would  be  perfectly  happy  if  she  could 
stand  there  and  gaze  at  it  during  the  remainder  of 
her  life.  Oh,  if  Kris  Kingle  Would  come  and 
leave  her  such  a  doll  as  that !  No,  that  could  not 
be ;  it  was  impossible  that  she  should  ever  have 
such  a  joyful  experience.  But  maybe  he  might 
bring  her  a  doll  like  some  of  the  smaller  and  less 
splendid  ones  which  surrounded  the  bride  in  swarms. 
Yes,  she  would  be  satisfied  with  the  very  poorest 
one  of  them.  She  would  hide  it  somewhere,  under 
her  bed  covering,  perhaps,  where  Mrs.  Tyke  could 
not  see  it,  but  where  she  could  find  it  and  kiss  it 
and  hug  it  and  take  it  close  in  her  arms  when  she 
went  to  sleep  at  night. 

The  thought  of  Mrs.  Tyke  came  to  her  like  a 
blow  in  the  midst  of  her  delight.  She  remem- 
bered that  she  must  hurry  homeward,  and  so  tak- 
ing a  last,  long  look  she  turned  and  ran  along  the 
pavement,  her  heart  filled  with  a  wild,  passionate 
longing  that  Kris  Kingle  would  come  to  her  and 
bring  her  something  she  could  love. 

Of  course  Mrs.  Tyke  greeted  her  with  angry 
words  and  two  or  three  savage  thumps.  She  ex- 
pected that.  But  Mrs.  Tyke  was  not  content  with 
this.     When  she  sat  down  to  supper  she  told  Jin- 


JINNIE.  319 

nie  that  as  she  had  been  unusually  idle  and  bad 
that  day  she  should  go  hungry  to  bed.  Then 
Mrs.  Tyke  ate  a  particularly  hearty  meal,  with  the 
child  watching  her ;  and  when  she  had  finished 
she  sat  by,  growling  and  threatening,  while  Jinnie 
cleared  away  the  tea-things  preparatory  to  being 
marched  off  to  bed, 

Jinnie  missed  her  supper  sadly,  but  she  did  not 
mind  the  hunger  so  much  on  that  night,  for  her 
mind  was  busy  with  new  delights. 

It  was  dark  in  her  room,  but  she  knew  where 
the  chimney  was  ;  and  before  she  undressed  she 
went  over  and  felt  it.  There  was  a  hole  there  for 
a  stove-pipe,  but  it  had  paper  pasted  over  it. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Jinnie,  "  Kris  Kingle  did  not 
come  because  the  hole  was  shut." 

He  would  not  come  down  the  chimney  and  out 
into  the  dining-room,  she  knew,  because  he  would 
have  to  go  through  the  stove ;  and  that  would 
burn  him,  and  his  toys,  too,  perhaps.  She  thought 
it  might  be  an  inducement  for  him  to  come  if  she 
should  punch  a  hole  through  the  paper.  She  was 
afraid  to  tear  it  off,  afraid  of  Mrs.  Tyke's  ven- 
geance ;  so  she  pushed  her  finger  through  it.  Then 
she  undressed,  and  went  hopefully  to  her  bed  upon 
the  floor. 

But  not  to  sleep  ;  she  was  too  greatly  excited. 
She  began  to  wonder  why  it  was  that  life  was  so 
terrible.     She  never  imagined  that  her  life  differed 


320  JINNIE. 

from  those  of  other  children.  It  is  the  peculiar 
infamy  of  brutality  to  a  child  that  the  victim  does 
not  know  how  to  sound  the  cry  for  the  help  that  is 
almost  always  near  to  it.  It  accepts  its  lot  as  a 
thing  of  course  ;  it  does  not  know  that  there  are 
perhaps  within  a  few  short  steps  of  its  house  of 
suffering  hearts  that  would  stir  with  wrath  for  its 
wrongs,  and  that  there  is  within  reach  a  law  which 
would  bring  retribution  upon  the  head  of  its  op- 
pressor. 

Jinnie  believed  that  all  childhood  was  a  time  of 
punishment  and  misery.  She  saw  other  children 
playing  in  the  street  who  seemed  merry  and  joyous, 
and  she  could  not  understand  why  they  were  so. 
She  remembered  the  Brown  girl,  also,  and  how  she 
had  heard  her  sometimes  laughing  and  singing. 
Jinnie  could  not  laugh  and  sing  in  her  house  with 
Mrs.  Tyke  near  her.  She  thought  the  other 
children  might  be  happy  because  they  had  dolls, 
and  because  they  could  have  their  stockings  filled 
at  Christmas  time.  She  knew  that  grown-up  people 
were  not  abused  as  she  was,  but  it  seemed  such  a 
long,  long  time  to  wait  until  she  was  grown  up. 
She  felt  that  when  she  was  she  would  be  kinder  to 
children,  and  not  strike  them  with  the  poker,  at 
any  rate,  as  Mrs.  Tyke  sometimes  struck  her. 

And  if  Kris  Kingle  should  come  down  into  her 
room  through  the  hole  in  the  paper,  she  thought 
she  would  like  to  be  awake  and  to  ask  him  to  take 


JINNIE.  321 

her  away  with  him  in  his  sleigh  somewhere.  As 
she  dwelt  upon  this  she  pictured  herself  going  up 
the  chimney  and  then  flying  over  the  roofs  behind 
the  reindeer,  and  looking  back  at  Mrs.  Tyke  stand- 
ing at  the  window  and  cursing  her.  And  so  she 
fell  asleep  and  into  a  tangled  maze  of  dreams, 
wherein  Kris  Kingle,  Mrs.  Tyke  and  the  doll-baby 
bride  were  mingled  in  great  confus-ion. 

Jinnie's  first  thought  in  the  morning  was  the  last 
that  she  had  upon  the  night  before.  But  as  she 
hurriedly  dressed  herself  it  flashed  across  her  mind 
that  as  there  was  grave  peril  that  Kris  Kingle 
might  not  come  to  her,  perhaps  it  would  make 
matters  surer  if  she  should  go  to  him. 

The  milkman,  whose  cry  she  expected  every 
moment,  to  her  seemed  a  likely  person  to  know 
where  Kris  lived,  and  to  take  her  there.  Young 
Miss  Brown  had  rather  indicated  that  Kris's  home 
was  in  Ohio  ;  but  whether  Ohio  was  a  little  piece  up 
the  street  or  millions  of  miles  away,  or  whether  it 
was  a  house  or  a  stable  or  a  town,  she  did  not  know. 
The  milkman  had  spoken  pleasantly  to  her  some- 
times, and  he  had  a  wagon.  It  was  not  as  attractive 
as  a  sleigh  with  reindeer,  but  she  had  often  longed 
to  ride  in  it.  She  determined  to  speak  to  him. 
But  when  he  came  and  she  opened  the  door  with  a 
beating  heart,  he  snatched  the  pitcher  from  her 
hand  and  frowned  while  he  filled  it.  He  was 
thinking   of  some  offensive   suggestions  made  by 


322  JINNIE. 

Mrs.  Tyke  upon  the  preceding  evening  in  reference 
to  his  too  intense  partiality  for  water  ;  and  he 
seemed  so  cross  that  Jinnie  was  afraid  to  speak  to 
him. 

She  came  into  the  house  again  sorrowfully,  but 
with  a  strong  purpose  to  seek  some  other  means  of 
reaching  Kris  Kingle  ;  and  she  carried  this  deter- 
mination with  her  stubbornly  through  all  the  fa- 
tigues and  hardships  of  the  day. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Mrs.  Tyke 
went  out.  Jinnie  felt  that  her  time  had  come.  She 
resolved  to  make  an  effort  to  find  Kris  Kingle,  to 
tell  him  of  her  longing  desire,  and  to  return  home 
again  before  Mrs.  Tyke  got  back.  She  put  her 
woollen  hood  upon  her  head,  wrapped  around  her 
shoulders  the  thin  and  faded  rag  which  Mrs.  Tyke 
dignified  with  the  name  of  a  shawl ;  and  then  she 
concluded  to  take  a  newspaper  with  her,  so  that  if 
Kris  Kingle  showed  any  disposition  to  urge  the 
doll-baby  upon  her  in  advance  of  Christmas,  she 
could  have  something  to  wrap  it  in. 

When  she  came  out  of  the  house  she  crossed 
the  street  so  that  she  could  notice  particularly 
whether  there  was  anything  in  the  construction  of 
the  roof  of  Mrs.  Tyke's  dwelling  which  would  be 
likely  to  discourage  Kris  Kingle  from  attempting 
to  reach  the  chimney.  She  saw  that  the  roof  was 
much  lower  than  the  roofs  of  the  houses  upon  each 
side  of  it,  and  that  it  sloped  at  a  sharp  angle  toward 


JINNIE,  323 

the  front,  while  they  were  flat.  The  chimney,  also, 
was  certainly  smaller  than  others  in  the  vicinity, 
and  the  conclusion  reached  by  the  child's  mind  was 
that  Kris  Kingle  had  probably  been  indisposed  to 
take  the  risks  of  running  his  sleigh  upon  so  pre- 
cipitous a  roof  for  the  sake  of  descending  such  a 
very  narrow  chimney. 

This  gave  a  fresh  impulse  to  the  child's  purpose 
to  visit  Kris  Kingle,  so  that  she  might  plead  with 
him  to  make  a  call  at  Mrs.  Tyke's  despite  the 
inconveniences  of  the  construction  of  the  house.  It 
occurred  to  her  that  she  might  possibly  arrange  for 
him  to  come  to  the  front  door  and  ring  the  bell, 
when  she  would  come  softly  down  stairs  and  open 
to  receive  him. 

While  she  thought  of  the  matter  she  walked 
quickly  up  the  street,  now  somewhat  gloomy  in  the 
early  dusk,  but  before  she  had  gone  far  she  reflected 
that  she  ought  to  inquire  the  way  to  Ohio  before 
the  darkness  should  come.  She  paused  to  speak 
to  two  or  three  men  who  were  hurrying  by,  but 
evidently  they  thought  she  intended  to  ask  alms 
of  them,  and  so  they  would  not  pause  to  listen  to 
her.  She  was  discouraged  ;  but  at  last  she  saw  a 
boy  standing  by  a  street  lamp,  doing  nothing,  and 
she  resolved  to  ask  him. 

He  laughed  rudely  at  her  question  and  walked 
away.  A  moment  later  he  turned  and  threw  a 
snowball  at  her.     It  hit  her  in  the  face  and  hurt 


324  JINNIE. 

her  badly  ;  and  her  foot  slipping  upon  the  icy  pave- 
ment, she  fell.  A  moment  elapsed  before  she  was 
able  to  rise ;  but  at  last  she  got  up,  and  although 
she  was  cold  and  weak  and  greatly  discouraged,  she 
thought  she  would  press  on.  She  might  never 
have  so  good  a  chance  again  ;  and  if  she  did  not 
see  Kris  Kingle  now,  Christmas  would  come,  and 
he  would  come  and  go,  and  there  would  be  no  doll 
for  her. 

While  she  was  standing  there,  in  a  very  miser- 
able frame  of  mind,  a  nicely  dressed  lady  went  past 
her.  Presently  the  lady  turned  and  looked  at  her ; 
then  she  came  back  to  where  Jinnie  stood  and 
spoke  to  her. 

"  What  is  your  name,  my  child  .-* "  asked  the  lady. 

"  Virginia,  ma'am.  But  Mrs.  Tyke  generally 
calls  me  Jinnie."  She  had  never  heard  so  sweet  a 
voice.  It  seemed  so  beautiful,  so  gentle,  so  full  of 
tender  pity,  that  it  thrilled  her  with  a  strange  joy. 

"  And  where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  out  to  Ohio,  to  see  Kris  Kingle." 

The  lady  smiled  ;  but  the  smile  faded  into  a  look 
of  deep  compassion,  and  she  said,  — 

"  Did  your  mother  let  you  come  away  from 
home.?" 

"  I  have  no  mother.     I'm  a  bound  girl." 

"  Who  sent  you  to  find  Kris  Kingle  .-*  " 

"  Nobody.  He  always  forgets  to  come  to  our 
house,  so  I  was  goin'  to  put  him  in  mind." 


JINNIE.  325 

"  Don't  you  get  any  toys  or  candy  on  Christmas  ? " 

"  No,  ma'am.  Mrs.  Tyke  won't  give  me  any, 
and  Kris  Kingle  forgets  me.  And  I  never  tasted 
candy  but  once." 

"  Is  Mrs.  Tyke  the  woman  you  live  with  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Does  she  treat  you  kindly  ^ " 

"  Whips  me  and  knocks  me  down  sometimes." 

"  Will  you  go  back  to  her  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  ma'am.  I  am  going  right  back  as  soon 
as  I  see  Kris  Kingle." 

The  lady  took  her  hand  and  resolved  to  go  back 
with  her,  and  to  see  the  terrible  Mrs.  Tyke.  She 
told  Jinnie  so,  and  Jinnie  submitted,  although  she 
was  grieved  to  forego  her  errand. 

"  Do  you  know  who  Kris  Kingle  really  is  ? "  the 
lady  asked. 

"  Yes  ;  he  brings  nice  things  down  the  chimbley 
to  children." 

"  He  does  better  things  than  that,  my  dear.  The 
real  Kris  Kingle  is  the  Christ-child." 

"Who  is  He.?" 

"  Did  you  never  hear  anybody  tell  of  Christ  ? " 

"No,  ma'am." 

"  He  is  God.  He  came  down  here  to  live  upon 
earth,  where  He  suffered  and  died  for  us.  He 
loved  little  children,  for  He  was  Himself  once  a 
child." 

"Was  He  Httle,  like  me.?" 


326  JINNIE. 

"Yes." 

"How  did  He  suffer?" 

"  Wicked  men  insulted  Him  and  beat  Him  and 
killed  Him." 

"  Did  they  beat  Him  and  strike  Him  like  they 
do  me  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  poor  child." 

"  What  makes  Him  love  me  .-•  Because  I  am 
beaten  just  like  He  was  .■'  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  that  is  it.  But  He  loves  everybody, 
good  and  bad." 

"  He  doesn't  know  Mrs.  Tyke,  does  He  .-' " 

"  He  knows  everybody  in  the  world." 

"  Where  is  He  now  ?  " 

"  Up  in  Heaven  ? " 

"  Is  that  farther  than  Ohio  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  far,  far  away  in  the  skies." 

"  Then  how  does  He  get  here  .-*  I  always 
thought  the  real  Kris  Kingle  came  down  chim- 
bleys." 

"  He  comes  in  your  heart,  my  dear  child.  You 
will  understand  it  all  some  day." 

The  lady  seemed  strangely  moved  as  she  said 
this  to  Jinnie ;  but  she  said  nothing,  and  led  Jinnie 
through  the  street,  towards  the  child's  home. 

When  Jinnie  and  her  companion  reached  Mrs. 
Tyke's  house  and  rang  the  bell,  Mrs.  Tyke  herself 
came  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  As  soon  as  she 
saw  Jinnie  she  poured  out  at  her  a  volley  of  abu- 


JINNIE.  327 

sive  words,  without  regarding  the  presence  of  the 
lady  who  accompanied  her.  The  lady  remon- 
strated with  Mrs.  Tyke,  and  then  Mrs.  Tyke  as- 
sailed her  with  her  tongue.  The  lady  then  told 
Mrs.  Tyke  that  she  knew  of  the  cruel  treatment  to 
which  the  child  had  been  subjected,  and  that  she 
would  interfere  if  it  was  repeated. 

Jinnie  was  astonished  that  any  one  should  be  so 
bold  as  to  speak  with  so  much  severity  to  Mrs. 
Tyke.  The  response  made  to  this  threat  by  Mrs. 
Tyke  was  to  seize  Jinnie  by  the  arm,  to  drag  her 
suddenly  into  the  hallway,  and  to  slam  the  door  in 
the  lady's  face. 

The  lady  stood  upon  the  step  and  listened.  She 
could  hear  Mrs.  Tyke  beating  the  child  and  curs- 
ing her;  and  then  the  sounds  receded,  as  if  Mrs. 
Tyke  were  dragging  Jinnie  into  a  room  at  the  end 
of  the  hallway.  Mrs.  Tyke  was  in  a  paroxysm  of 
fury ;  and  she  intended  to  visit  upon  Jinnie  the 
vengeance  she  would  have  liked  to  inflict  upon 
Jinnie's  unknown  friend. 

Beating  was  too  common  and  too  tame  a  form 
of  punishment.  Mrs.  Tyke's  ingenuity  devised  a 
more  terrible  one.  She  made  the  child  remove 
her  shoes,  and  then  she  tied  her  upon  a  chair,  with 
her  naked  feet  within  a  few  inches  of  the  hot 
stove.  In  that  position  she  left  Jinnie,  who  bore 
the  frightful  pain  bravely,  until  presently  she 
fainted. 


328  JINNIE. 

If  there  is  no  hell,  what  is  going  to  become  of 
people  like  Mrs.  Tyke  ? 

When  Jinnie  regained  consciousness,  Mrs.  Tyke 
sternly  ordered  her  to  go  up  to  bed  ;  and  Jinnie 
crawled  up  the  staircase  slowly  and  painfully  upon 
her  hands  and  knees,  suffering  so  much  that  she 
could  hardly  help  screaming  aloud. 

She  reached  her  room  at  last,  and  flung  herself 
down  upon  the  bed.  Her  pain  was  so  great  that  it 
was  a  long  while  before  she  could  go  to  sleep  ;  and 
she  lay  there  thinking  with  all  her  might  about 
Kris  Kingle  and  the  doll  baby,  and  her  adventures 
in  the  street,  an'd  wondering  if  she  would  ever  be 
any  happier.  Then  she  remembered  what  little 
Miss  Brown  had  said  about  praying,  and  what  the 
sweet  lady  had  told  her  about  the  Christ-child 
and  His  wondrous  love  ;  and  so  she  thought  she 
would  try  to  pray  to  Him ;  and  praying,  she  fell 
asleep. 

The  lady  who  brought  Jinnie  home  turned  away 
with  her  soul  filled  with  indignation  at  Mrs.  Tyke's 
cruelty  to  the  child,  and  she  determined  to  have  it 
ended.  She  knew  a  man,  Thomas  Elwood,  who 
was  active  in  the  service  of  the  Society  for  Pro- 
tecting Children  from  Cruelty,  and  she  went  to  his 
house.  He  was  a  very  plain  Friend ;  a  young 
man,  and  of  a  fair  countenance.  He  was  at  home 
with  his  wife,  and  both  expressed  deep  interest  in 
the  visitor's  story.     The  visitor   left  with  the  as- 


JINNIE.  329 

surance  from  Elwood  that  the  case  would  receive 
attention  early  the  next  morning. 

Next  morning,  when  Mrs.  Tyke  called  Jinnie, 
Jinnie  tried  to  rise,  but  found  that  she  could  not : 
she  was  too  feeble  and  wretched.  Mrs.  Tyke  saw 
this,  and  she  did  not  compel  Jinnie  to  get  up. 
Mrs.  Tyke  was  beginning  to  be  frightened.  So 
Jinnie  fell  asleep  again,  and  when  she  awoke  it  was 
broad  daylight,  and  a  man  with  what  seemed  to  be 
an  angelic  face  was  standing  beside  her.  It  was 
Thomas  Elwood.  Jinnie  was  startled ;  her  first 
impression  was  that  this  was  Kris  Kingle,  come  in 
answer  to  her  prayer.  But  when  Jinnie  looked  at 
the  finger-hole  she  had  made  in  the  fire-board  and 
at  the  man,  and  particularly  at  the  circumference 
of  his  hat,  it  seemed  to  her  impossible,  if  this  was 
Kris  Kingle,  that  he  should  have  come  in  by  way 
of  Mrs.  Tyke's  chimney. 

Thomas  Elwood  spoke  to  her  and  asked  her  if 
she  suffered  much.  She  said  yes,  and  then  she 
asked  him  if  he  really  was  Kris  Kingle. 

Thomas  smiled  and  said,  — 

"  No,  dear  child  ;  but  I  am  thy  friend,  and  I  am 
going  to  take  thee  away  from  this  misery  and  keep 
thee  until  thee  is  well  again." 

Then  he  lifted  Jinnie  in  his  arms,  bore  her  down- 
stairs and  out,  and  placed  her  in  a  carriage. 

"  Where  is  Mrs.  Tyke. -•"  thought  Jinnie.  Mrs. 
Tyke  was  at  a  magistrate's  office,  listening  to  Mrs. 


330  JINNIE. 

Brown  and  others  of  the  neighbors  while  they  tes- 
tified of  her  brutal  treatment  of  Jinnie.  The  lady 
who  had  brought  Jinnie  home  was  there  also  ;  and 
Jinnie  was  kindly  pressed  by  the  magistrate  to  tell 
what  Mrs.  Tyke  had  done  to  her. 

Mrs.  Tyke  gave  bail  and  went  home.  Thomas 
Elwood  took  Jinnie  to  his  own  house,  and  his  wife 
wept  as  he  told  her  how  the  child  had  been  tor- 
tured. She  carried  Jinnie  upstairs  and  washed 
her,  and  dressed  her  in  clothes  that  Jinnie  thought 
were  wonderful,  though  they  were  so  plain.  Then 
she  kissed  Jinnie  and  said  to  her,  — 

"  I  once  had  a  little  girl  of  thy  age  ;  but  a  year 
ago  she  died.     She  even  looked  like  thee,  my  dear." 

Jinnie  was  so  weak  that  she  had  to  lie  upon  the 
bed  when  the  washing  and  dressing  were  over ; 
"  and  such  a  bed  ! "  thought  Jinnie.  Thomas  El- 
wood's  wife  brought  some  breakfast  up  to  her,  and 
Jinnie  thought  that  she  had  never  tasted  anything 
so  good.  She  did  not  know  that  such  delicious 
food  could  be  found  anywhere  in  the  world. 

Jinnie  grew  better  and  stronger  in  a  few  days, 
and  Thomas  Elwood  and  his  wife  became  so  much 
attached  to  her  that  they  resolved  that  they  would 
keep  her  and  adopt  her  in  the  place  of  the  child 
that  had  been  taken  away  from  them. 

Jinnie  was  very  happy,  and  she  talked  freely  with 
them.  She  told  them  about  her  search  for  Kris 
Kingle,  and  about  that  splendid  doll  she  saw  in  the 


JINNIE.  331 

window  on  the  night  she  went  to  the  strange 
baker's. 

Although  entertaining  sentiments  which  forbade 
any  enthusiasm  for  Christmas  and  Kris  Kingle, 
and  dolls  in  gorgeous  apparel,  something  im- 
pelled Thomas  Elwood  to  go  to  see  that  special 
doll. 

That  night,  as  he  sat  with  his  wife  in  front  of  the 
grate  fire  in  the  sitting-room,  she  said  to  him, 
Jinnie  being  in  bed,  — 

'i  Thomas,  does  thee  think  there  would  be  any 
harm  in  giving  Virginia  a  little  pleasure  on  the 
25th  of  this  month?" 

"  How  does  thee  mean,  Rachel  ? " 

"  Well,  she  seems  to  have  her  little  head  filled 
with  nonsense  about  Kris  Kingle  and  Christmas, 
and  as  the  poor  child  has  had  a  life  so  full  of  mis- 
ery, I  thought,  perhaps,  we  might  — " 

"  Thee  does  n't  mean  to  keep  Christmas  in  this 
house,  does  thee  ? " 

"  Not  exactly  that,  but — " 

"  What  would  Friends  say  if  we  should  do  that  ? " 

"  No  ;  but  there  can  be  no  harm  in  giving  the 
poor  child  some  playthings,  and  we  may  as  well 
give  them  upon  one  day  as  another." 

"  What  kind  of  playthings  would  thee  give 
her.?" 

"  Why  not  buy  her  a  doll }  She  seemed  to  like 
that  doll  at  Thomas  Smith's  store  very  much." 


332  JINNIE. 

"But,  Rachel,  that  doll  was  dressed  in  a  most 
worldly  manner.  Ought  we  to  risk  filling  the 
child's  mind  with  vain  and  frivolous  notions  about 
dress  ?  " 

"  She  has  hardly  had  a  chance  to  feed  her  vanity 
in  that  manner  thus  far." 

"Thee  would  be  willing,  then,"  said  Thomas,  "  to 
buy  for  her  that  gaily-dressed  doll  ? " 

"  I  think  I  would  ;  just  this  once." 

"  Well,"  said  Thomas,  slowly,  "  I  am  glad  to  hear 
thee  say  so,  because  to-day  I  bought  that  very 
doll."  And  he  produced  it  from  a  bundle  that  he 
took  from  under  the  sofa. 

Kris  Kingle  came  to  Jinnie  that  Christmas  eve, 
and  in  the  morning  her  joy  as  she  clasped  the  doll 
in  her  arms  was  so  great  that  she  could  not  express 
it.  While  she  was  at  the  breakfast  table  Thomas 
Elwood  was  called  to  the  parlor  to  see  a  visitor. 
Presently  he  summoned  Jinnie,  and  when  Jinnie 
came  into  the  room  she  was  startled  to  see  Mrs. 
Tyke.  It  flashed  across  her  mind  that  Mrs.  Tyke 
had  come  to  take  her  away,  and  she  began  to  cry. 
Thomas  Elwood  comforted  her.  Mrs.  Tyke  had 
come  to  beg  for  mercy.  She  wished  to  escape 
prosecution. 

Thomas  turned  to  Jinnie  and  said,  — 

"Virginia,  this  is  the  woman  who  has  done  thee 
so  much    harm.     I   can   have   her   punished   if  I 


JINNIE.  333 

wish.     What  would  thee  do    to   her   if   thee   had 

thy  way  ? " 

"  I  would  forgive  her,"  said  Jinnie,  timidly. 

It  seemed  as  if  Jinnie  had  been  visited  also  by 

the  real  Kris  Kingle.     Mrs.  Tyke  was  permitted  to 

go  unpunished. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


iirii»»»^i 


ttOCT  181993 
^    :\  1993 


NON-RE?i: 

OCT  0  "^  1991 
DUE  2  WKS  FROM  DATE  RE^IIVtt) 


NON-REK.:"' 

JAN  oew 

DUE  2  WKS  FROM  DATE  RECEIVED 

FEB  2  8  1552 


A     000  131  287 


